


These Letters that we Scribble

by astr0cat



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: F/M, Ghosts, Spooky, Update: all chapters proofread and hopefully not as cringy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astr0cat/pseuds/astr0cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas had requested your presence at Crimson Peak, sending you his hastily scribbled plea through letters that took more than a day's time to arrive to the area you inhabited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration: Smoke by Daughter  
> https://youtu.be/iTuYunp4a3Y

Thomas had requested your presence at Crimson Peak, sending you his hastily scribbled plea through letters that took more than a day's time to arrive to the area you inhabited. 

You had attempted to arrive as soon as possible, the winter storms delaying your travels as you made your way through the brisk weather. Boarding a carriage, you had ridden off towards the beaten down mansion, your cloak fluttering out behind you in the snowy winds.

It had taken hours to finally arrive at Allerdale Hall but here you stood. With a pace faster than you thought you could muster, you led your steeds to the building, resting them just below the swing of the roof. A spot just below it seemed to be shielded away from the frosty chills and the pastey flakes of ice.

Rushing off to the front door, you let your knuckles tap against it. “Thomas! Thomas, I came as soon as I could! Is everything alright?”

No reply came to you, only the howling of the wind that surely swirled within the house. 

Shivering, you pulled the fabric around your shoulders closer to your form, your body craving warmth. The machine Thomas had been working on was alive, creaking as it ran and all you could do was gaze over your shoulder at it. Why was it running? With no coal it should be as dead as the butterflies.

You could feel your frosted lips tremble as they most certainly began to fade into a deep purple. Wasting no more time in the stalled answer, you pulled the door open.

A shiver crawled up your spine when you were met with an ominous silence, it was too quiet. Though the fire still crackled in its place only meters in front of you, the house held an odd silence that made your gut churn with anxiety. Where was Edith? What about the Sharpes, where were they?

“Lucille? Thomas?” Something inside you almost whispered that you shouldn't waste your time and that you should get out as soon as you could but you just couldn't. Stepping inside, you reached around behind you towards the doors, pulling them closed after a small fight with the wind.

Hunching over and facing the room, you glanced up at the hole in the room, letting the storm in. After a moment you let your gaze fall down before hesitantly walking forwards, your feet seemingly sinking into the rotten floor.

You had been a good friend to Lucille, had grown close with both of the Sharpes actually. Not once did they ever leave the house unattended, not in a storm like this.

A shadow danced at the edge of your vision and you whipped your orbs over to follow it, just barely missing it. You didn't miss the scuffle of footsteps though.

“Edith?” You took another step closer as a sinister force called you forth. Whatever it was seemed to act as a magnet to your very body and your shivering soul.

There was a creak behind you before you spun on your heel, “who?!” Your hands were balled up into tiny fists, your breathing growing into a wild spur of gasps. It seemed like ages before you regained the will to calm your nerves to the point where your mind could think properly. “I think it's time to go..” Quickly marching off towards the front doors once more, you flung the entrance open, a jingling catching your ears...that and what seemed to be a scre-

Oh god.

You bolted over to where your horses had been stationed, the animals now bloodied corpses on the equally red ground. Whether the scarlet substance was clay or blood, you didn't know. Biting your lip in horror, your eyes wide and glistening, you turned your gaze down. What to do now...your only means of transportation had been slaughtered. Not to mention there was a raging blizzard currently sweeping through the lands of England.

When you turned your eyes back up, a shadow stood before you, branches of black sweeping off of its form.

Lucille stared down at you, a kitchen knife held firmly within her bunched up hand. “Lucille! Oh thank goodness there you are, why are you out here? You look so cold..” you went up to her and touched her hand, it was freezing, ice cold. You didn't pull away but instead placed your other hand on hers, your eyes filled with both worry and horror. She was blue, literally blue, bluer than the bloody sky.

“Let’s get inside so-so you don’t…” the ravenette smiled down at you, a twinge of amusement and gratitude flashing through her orbs. “I believe that is not necessary,” she let a hand rest on the side of your face, “such a...sweet friend to the family.” Her fingers slipped from your face, “I believe it is you who needs to get inside before you become like us.”

Lucille's figure began to fade and blend into the house, limbs seemingly morphing into the structure. “No wait! Wait where's Thomas a-and Edith?” A cough ran through your lungs and you doubled over, eyes desperately looking up and searching for Lady Sharpe before you were forced to look at the ground. Wheezing now, you glanced warily at the bloodied knife resting beside one of your steeds. Lucille had wielded that only moments ago, killed your animals, why?

Huffing and rising from you hunched over position, you rose and stumbled back over to the front doors, shutting them behind you like you had before. Upon walking into the mansion for the second time, the winds roared and sent the fire ablaze as the breeze ran through the chimneys. What had happened here? Quivering in an almost cowardly way, you practically tiptoed to the kitchen. You'd find out soon, no one knew of your abrupt trip, no one knew you were currently here. It was certainly proving to be an awful decision in not telling anyone where you had went. It had seemed like it wouldn't have been as important then as it did now…

Once arriving in the kitchen, you threw some stray logs of wood into the stove before lighting them, watching as hungry flames ate up the logs. Fishing around through the cupboards, you pulled forth a kettle. Turning the faucet on and waiting patiently for the clay to run out, you put the dish under the now clear stream of water.

Once it had filled, you placed it on top of the stove, eyes darting around the creaking mansion in anticipation of _something._

In the previous years you had once been an occupant to the house, living there with the Sharpes. You had left around the time Thomas’ wife had turned up, she was beautiful, sweet, charming. You stood no chance against all the other women in the world anyways, you never knew why you had your hopes up in becoming his bride. Besides, you knew about the secret, the dirty little stowed away secret. You knew about the relationship. About the brother, the sister, why Edith was even married to that man. How could you even love Thomas? He was married to Enola and Edith all the while having an affair with his sister Lucille. Married for the money and staying in this house because of his sister. What a wreck.

A sigh slipped past your lips, his sister, she was always so kind to you. Never poisoned your tea, never tried to kill you...not yet anyways. Never feared in telling you her plans because she knew...she knew you wouldn't make a peep. The two of you had practically grown up together...in an odd way.

Of course you hadn't met the Sharpes until their visit to France, which happened to be five years ago, but upon meeting them the three of you had grown close.

When Edith appeared in their lives, you knew you had to leave, unable to watch the marriage fall apart once again. Enola had known and you were sure Edith would know. You didn't want to be a part of that, not again.

Occasionally you'd see Thomas glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, oh those irresistible eyes. You'd ignore it, not wanting to get any closer than you already were with him in fear of angering someone. Besides...he was more of a player than anything. He would have you for one night or worse...treat you like one of his wives. You didn't want that.

Lucille had confided in you one day about how uncomfortable the blonde had made her, how close Edith and Sir Thomas were becoming. You had listened but it wasn't until the end of her rant that were taken aback. In a quiet whisper she had spoken out to you, “if it were you it would be acceptable because…” She had trailed off and you had urged her to continue her sentence, curiosity had always killed you. The ravenette had shaken her head, a smile tugging at her scarlet lips, “because you're so close to me...I couldn't kill you even if I so desired.” Though that's all she spoke of, her only reason she had stated, you could already feel the waterfall of words resting just beneath her sentence. You didn't further question it though, deciding it was better to refrain from begging for more words. You had gotten a reason after all, though small and possibly fake, it still counted.

You had been kind and had refrained from making any advances on the man, not wanting to put your life into limbo or change your relationship with either of the siblings. You could lose your friendship with Lucille-with Thomas. 

The kettle began to hiss and you snapped your head back over to it, pulling it off it's steaming companion. 

While concocting the tea, you thought about your memories. Thomas had always been such a gentleman to you...then again wasn't he a gentleman to everyone? He had always said the right things, was always quick to lend you an ear when you needed someone to listen, always keen on offering you advice when you sought it out. 

Sipping your tea, you stared off at a wall, completely unaware of your surroundings until a hand brushed your shoulder. “Hm?” You turned your gaze to look past your shoulder, finding nothing there. Sipping your beverage once more, you twisted your skull back to face forward. Eyes widening and pupils shrinking, you gripped onto your teacup with a vice grip. A crimson figure stood before you, water dripping from its unclothed form. “W-who..” your voice was trapped in your throat. 

Black orbs stare into your own as you trembled. Moments passed, neither of you blinking before the entity hobbled forward. You thought it would stop beside you but it didn't, it just kept walking past you, feet squishing against the ground as the water sunk into the wooden floor.

Breath still lodged within you, you waited before scrambling to look behind you, finding the figure now gone. The only evidence that it was ever there were the footprints formed of water. Shaking, you lifted your cup to your lips, the glass clattering against the saucer as you shakily placed it back down. 

 

Roughly thirty minutes passed according to your pocket watch and you had finally finished your tea. After washing the dishes, you climbed up the stairs and to the first bedroom your eyes landed upon. Believing it was the bride and groom's, you had fought with yourself on whether you should sleep there or not. It didn't take long for fatigue to consume you to the point you simply didn't care. A room was a room and you were exhausted from all the shivering you had been doing. A night gown rested on the bed, a crisp white, wrinkle free fabric as it fell against the curve of the structure. 

Glancing around the room, you bit your lip before beginning to undo the lacing on your dress. It wasn't the most elegant thing in the world so pulling the strings free proved to be an easy task. Once free of the ties, the silky garment fell to your feet in a puddle of fabric. Next was the corset.

It took you quite a bit of hassle to undo your prison of a binding but you achieved it eventually. Tossing the item to a chair in the corner of the room, you slipped the new silky gown on, the fit perfect.

You had half a mind to get the hell out of here but that was not an option anymore with your horses slaughtered.

You supposed the reason why you were so comfortable here, as comfortable as one could get with ghosts running about and all, was because you had thrived in this particular house for roughly four years, and that hadn't been the first ghost you'd seen, hence the reason you hadn't dropped your cup of tea. Just because it wasn't the first though didn't mean it made them any less terrifying, oh no, you were scared but you also held high expectancy for them. You would either sleep extremely good because of the previous adrenaline rush sapping your energy, or you'd sleep awful because you'd continue to have bursts of energy.

A shiver ran up your spine and you went over to the fireplace, grabbing a piece of wood to start a fire. Your hand hovered just above the old ashes when you dropped the item in. Just then it burst into flames, rising high. 

Screaming in pain, you retracted your hand and held it close to your chest. “Bloody hell,” you looked down at your now burnt hand, steam arising from it as the colors of red began to set in. Giving your hand a few shakes in the air, you attempted to cool it before shoving another log into the fire.

Shaking now, you made your way over to the bed and slipped under the covers, it was just as cold as the outside, maybe it would warm up?

Your right-before-bed thoughts began to arise from the depths of your mind and you lay there. What if Thomas was dead? Why was Lucille such a blue shade? What had happened here while you were away?

With these thoughts, your brain began to tire, eyes slipping shut every now and again. Just as you were about to fall into the black void, fingers brushed your cheek, like the back of a hand. You rolled over to look at whatever was touching you now, “Lucil…” Your voice fell out of your throat and you stood up immediately. 

The entity stared at you softly, yellow orbs seemingly gazing into your soul. Reaching up a hesitant hand, you let the tips of your slender digits graze his silky, snow locks. After a moment, your palm fell down to rest on the wound that inhabited his cheek, dark, crimson blood flowing from it and into the air in graceful waves. The cheek beside the wound appeared to crack, like lines in the dry ground on a summer's afternoon. “What happened to you?” Tears welled in your eyes the longer you gazed at him, “what happened to your sister, to Edith?”

He said nothing just leaned into the palm of your hand, ashen skin softer than you'd expect, his eyes fluttering shut. Moving forward, you wrapped your trembling arm around his waist, the other being held onto by him. “What the hell happened here?” Your voice was hushed, a whisper just barely heard above the howling winds outside. Drops of water finally spilled free from your orbs, landing on the burnt tunic before you. 

Pulling away and looking up at him, you spoke, your voice only slightly louder than before, “does it hurt?” A drowned out sadness enveloped your tone as the words fell from your lips, “who did it? Who?” It was a whispered sob just barely escaping your chapped lips, tears rushing down your face as you swallowed, “you are dead...aren't you?” You received a nod, the first reaction, the first answer during this small time frame. 

Face crumpling in sadness, you reached out your other hand to grab ahold to his free one, letting the cold sink into your fingers. “Why….please tell me who it was?”

A long moment of silence passed between the two of you, not uncomfortable but expectant. His pale lips parted, golden orbs looking directly at you, “Lucille.” You blinked, once and then twice, his sister? His sister would do this to him, didn't she love him? “She...she did this?” your fingertips softly danced across the wound once more, “I…” Voice fading into quiet sobs, you grabbed onto his sleeves before pulling him into an embrace, “i'm so, so sorry.”

His arms wrapped around the small of your back, returning the hold you had on him. “I loved her, Edith, Lucille didn't want to accept that, therefore I don't think I can accept what she's done. Despite that...I… I still love her. She is my dear sister, I cannot hate her even though she has confined me to this dreaded house.”

You paused for a moment, “I don't hate her…just like I don't hate you.” Another stretch of quiet followed, “thank you then, for having such a kind heart.” With those last few words, the entity in front of you began to fade, just like his sister had only hours ago.

Your hands followed him, not wanting to let him go just yet but he was already gone from your vision. A tear rolled down your cheek, you desperately wanted to possess the knowledge of what had gone down here.

Letting your hands fall to your sides, you looked down at the ground where your feet rested. You wanted to see him more, wanted to know more of his story, of what had happened to everyone here.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you looked up once more, “Thomas…”


	2. Glitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this video  
> https://youtu.be/Rfi_UzhD2vQ

You awoke to the sound of something falling over downstairs, something heavy that sent an item made of wood splintering. Jolting upwards, you flung your silky locks over your shoulder before darting down the excessive amounts of stairs, gown flowing out behind you. 

Your hand brushed a splinter along the staircase and you paused, hissing and grabbing onto the injured finger. Frowning, you continued on your journey and practically ran downstairs. Once at the bottom of the steps, you softly called out into the silent air, “Thomas?” Your voice was so small compared to the house, not to mention the wind that screamed just outside these thin walls.

There was a creak behind you before the shuffle of feet followed and your instincts flung you around, “Thomas?!” A hand rested on your shoulder, breath licking at your neck. 

You went rigid, the fingers were long, seemingly demonic and it took all your willpower to face your head the other way. Your eyes locked on a caved in skull, lips rotted away revealing bloodied teeth.

Eyes wide with horror, you attempted to ease you heart, swallowing the lump in your throat, “Enola.” The ghost cocked her head, fingers slipping from your shoulder before receding into the shadows. 

“Ah, there you are,” Lucille's voice filled your ears and you grew tense. Though you already knew she was deceased it still threw you off to see her cyan skin. 

The woman stopped in front of you, feet planted firmly on the rotted wooden planks below your own toes, “I cannot seem to find my dear brother.” You shuffled a bit, why did she even attempt to make it seem as if nothing had happened between them? You already knew so why did she bother with this facade? “Would you care to aid me in locating him? It appears I am unable to do it myself.”

There was a long pause before you opened your mouth, “I don't think I should…” You could swear the house trembled as the winds howled about outside, “and why is that?” Her voice held a chill to it, unwelcoming. “I don't think he wants to be around me.”

Lucille took in a breath, her hair falling down around her shoulders in a pool of black. She must have not gotten ready for the day, it was quite early after all, actually how did a schedule even exist with such entities?

A pair of shoes clicked from behind you, a pale hand grasping your shoulder. Lucille's blue lips turned up into a sweet smile, “Thomas.” Turning, you found your eyes immediately locked with a pair of aureate colored orbs, a small smile tugging at your lips. So he wasn't agitated with you as you had assumed he had been, mostly do to how quickly he had left the previous night. Staring up at your old friend, your eyes trailed over to the wound that bled freely into the air, a thin line tugging your lips into a firm hold.

Thomas squeezed your shoulder lightly and you returned your gaze back to Lucille, her blue eyes trailing over you as a frown replaced her smile. Biting your lip and moving away from Thomas, you folded your hands in front of you, gaze turned down. 

Silence filled the room for a mere few moments before Thomas spoke up, “how will we commence in caring for our new guest?” A wide grin assaulted the ravenette’s face as she looked up at him, “you mean our new occupant, she won't be leaving again.” A shiver went down your spine, pupils shrinking. What about the food supply, the electricity? How will you manage this entire home on your own? 

Eyebrows bunching up, you darted for the door, you should have never come. Had Thomas led you into a trap purposely or had he indeed needed your help when those letters had been sent out? 

Just as your hand brushed the knob of the door, a strong hand pulled you back, flinging you to the ground. Tumbling backwards, your head slammed into the staircase which inevitably switched the faucet on within your watery orbs. You glanced up to see the pale ghost of Thomas before you, eyes dull despite the slight hint of remorse.

Whipping your head to the side, you took in Lucille's appearance, the dark aura causing you to quiver like a leaf in the wind. “How will I survive here? I need to go home, I-” The female marched up to you, yanking you upwards by the collar of your nightgown, “Thomas will teach you how to operate things, teach you how to run his inventions. Together we will make sure the food supply does not disappear along with the treasured electricity you crave so very much, but you are not leaving..”

Tears slipped down your chilly cheeks as you nodded, eyes straining to peer down at her from the angle you were being held at. After a moment, she released you, lips pursed as her unblinking gaze witnessed you crash to the ground. Turning to her brother, she nodded before fading off into the dark.

Eyes following her fading silhouette, you immediately turned your head towards the man before you, “don't touch me.”

With a grim expression, he held out his hand, “please forgive me, it wasn't my true intent to cause you to meet the ground.” 

Instead of taking his hand, you helped yourself up, white dress fluttering out behind you. Lucille had nodded at the white haired ghost before fading, surely that was clue enough to hidden intentions?

You cast a squint up at Thomas before your eyes inevitably softened, orbs frantically casting themselves downward before the ghost could witness your diminutive amount of forgiveness directed in his general direction. “If you'll excuse me, I believe I shall attempt to return to my peaceful slumber I was so crudely roused from.”

Thomas stepped closer, his bronze tunic visible within your downcast gaze. Before he could reach out, you turned on your heel and marched back up the stairs.

 

Days passed after that moment and Lucille had kept her word on Thomas becoming your mentor, the man teaching you how to dig up the red clay when the blizzards had settled and when snowed in, assisting you in the great attempt of patching up the manor.

Currently you sat upon Thomas’ great invention, fueling the fires with the endless piles of soot colored coal. A sound thrummed within the base of the machine and you hurried off your perch, relieving you of your previous task with it, in order to inspect the issue. Almost instantly you picked up on a notch deep within the structure that whistled and clanked about. Rolling your sleeve up, you reached your arm into the cramped space, pearly whites clamped down tightly as your fingers searched. A scream from the device sounded from above you as a hot burst of boiling steam shot up at your palm.

Screaming, you flung your wrist about in an attempt to calm the nerves that were now aflame. Thomas was beside you in an instant, demanding to see your injured palm to which you let him, the trust between the two of you slowly growing every second.

Tenderly, he took your hand into his own, scanning over it with overly calm filled eyes. It was astounding how much respect he had acquired from you, the amount large compared to your first night here. In a way you weren't surprised, before all of this you two had been very close companions, relying on each other when you had resided in this house previously. Previously meaning almost over a year ago.

You hadn't even noticed that the male had released your wrist until he placed a cold hand on your shoulder, “follow me, I shall take on the task of fixing you up.” Face scrunching up, you shot a spite filled glance up at him, “if I am a burden to you, I shall fix myself up.”

Without waiting for a response, you hurried past him and into the manor. To hell with these bloody feelings for such a man-such a fiend. Those two had demanded you here, practically restrained your body here against your will. They should be forced to tolerate your needs, especially if you had gotten injured. You detested the idea of running that blasted invention, well to an extent, you weren't exactly keen on getting coal on your skin.

Stomping through the snow and resisting the urge to glance down as your footprints were painted scarlet with clay, you flung the doors open and marched up to the bathroom. You frowned when you glanced up to see Thomas leaning against the counter, bandages held firmly within his hands. How easily you forgot how much a twat this man could be.

Huffing and pinching the bridge of your nose, you stood before him and shoved out your hand, head turned to the side to avoid his stare.

Thomas let out a sigh before beginning his task, gingerly wrapping the cloth around your burned palm. “You know I didn't mean it like that...I simply meant it as…” Silence stretched out long and hung heavy in the crisp, winter air. “I didn't ask to be stuck here, if I am so very bothersome then release me from these binds.”

“I very much enjoy your company.” His voice sent something through your mind, realization perhaps? “Then prove it, prove i'm not being played like a fool.” 

Eyes falling shut, he hummed softly and completed his operation. As you waited, you stared at his maroon stained eyelids, watching as the thin stream of crimson strung out from his cheek before he suddenly flung his eyes open, “pardon me.”

Before you could question his words, he quickly brought a hand to smother your hair in a light hearted hug, chest to face. Realizing he was already faded by the time you brought a pale hand up to his chest, you let your fingers trail through the air.

It didn't take long for it to sink in that you had practically returned his hasty embrace. Groaning, you buried your slender digits within your hair, “bloody hell!” Those romantic feelings that you had wielded in the past were slowly awakening within your cowardly core, feelings that you thought you had dug the grave for long ago.

Running a hand down the front of your face, you glanced up at a nearby clock, the hands ticking away until they screamed six. Figuring it was near time to call it a day, you made your way down the wooden steps, going outside once more and silencing the machine for the night. Sighing softly, you let your clothed hand trail across the perch of the invention, reality grabbing you quickly and forcing you back to the house once more as a cold gust of air blew your hair back.

Your fingers danced in your hair as you slowly walked up the stairs, fatigue settling within your core, “Thomas…” Eyes were on you as you finished your journey to the top, “stop watching me…” Orbs cast down, you made your way over to the bathroom, a pair of footsteps echoing with yours as they attempted to mimic your movements. 

Letting an exasperated sigh pass your lips, you turned on your heel, finding the man directly behind you. A smile formed upon your face, just a small one, before his chest softly collided with your forehead. “Thomas,” your voice muffled by fabric, “mind leaving me be while I bathe?”

The male took a step back, quietly muttering an apology before nodding in affirmation, “my most sincerest apologies, I did not intend to collide with you.” 

“Of course you didn't,” you replied facetiously, a joking tone lacing your soft voice. Deciding to not wait for a reply, you let your tired steps lead you to the bath, instantly switching the water on and letting the clay run out before sinking into the heat it offered.

Just wanting to get to bed, you scrubbed at the coal stains littering your body in no time flat before hopping out and wrapping a towel around your body. Sliding out and barely managing to save yourself from a slip, you wandered down to the bedroom you currently resided in.

Drying off and slipping into your gown, you laid down on the silky, plush mattress of the bed, your head falling to the fluffy pillow almost heavenly.

You didn't remember when you had fallen asleep but you had, waking up to a pitch black room despite the moon being full. A figure rested beside you and when you turned to glance at it, a hand shot up from the covers and grasped your arm, grip tight. Flinching slightly, you looked up at the face as best you could. “Go back to bed,” a smooth, velvety voice whispered out to you. Blinking, you did as you were told, body facing the voice now.

Soft breaths filled the air, the dip in the mattress obvious due to the other entity in bed with you. “Thomas?” A palm came to rest on the side of your face, cold and rough. When the other palm brushed your cheek, you flinched away. It was practically on fire, a bandage obviously wrapped around part of the hand from what you could feel. “Sorry...I seem to have burned my hand before my death. It never healed.” How familiar, your own hand throbbed at that thought.

The pair of palms cradled your face, one freezing and one boiling, the contrast in them absolutely enticing and cringe worthy.

Instead of pulling away again, you leaned into the touch, growing used to the searing pain after a moment. “Thomas, why are you here?”

A small pause, “this is my bed after all. If that's what you're inquiring. If you mean why I haven't fled this house upon death, the answer is that I am bound here, simple as that.” Though his words were genuine you felt as though he had more to say, more to say which involved you and your fate. 

Softly, you rested your palm against his own, “I see…” You went to move in order to find a new place to sleep, it was only a matter of time before he kicked you out of his room anyway. After all, there had always been a small thought floating around in your mind that this particular room had belonged to him and his wife.

Thomas gripped your wrist, sending chills down your spine, “it is quite alright, you are already here and I do not mind the company.” Shivering, you nodded, “where's Lucille?” The ghost before you froze before muttering a few curses, “excuse me.” You pleaded with him to wait but by the time the words had slipped off your tongue he was gone. “God damnit..” 

Resting your head against the pillow, you closed your eyes, sleep coming to you after copious amounts of rolling over and staring at the wall. Mostly after your thoughts of what Thomas had been so worked up about died down.

Morning rolled around rather quickly and you awoke to the touch of fingers in your hair, a dip on the edge of the bed. “Thomas?” You were edging closer to being fully awake by now, the chill of the morning causing your body to function faster. “No, not Thomas,” a soft voice spoke out after a moment.

Lucille moved down to your ear, cold breath tickling your neck, “though I think you wish it was.” Her fingers never ceased to stop toying with your silky locks, like a mother braiding their daughter's hair. “You love him...don't you?” Shaking your head, you picked up on the stop of her fingers, the pause in her actions. The stillness dragged on for what felt like an eternity before you felt the bed lighten, the dip disappearing, “he is mine.” You nodded, opening your eyes, finding no evidence Lucille was ever there except for the small billows of black arising from the corner.

Shivering, you arose from the bed and made your way over to the chair, slipping the nightgown off and beginning to pull your corset on with hesitance, your body trembling from both the cold and the subtle threat you had received only seconds ago.

After what seemed like hours, you had finally gotten dressed, now finishing up the touches to your hair. A crash sounded from the room below, or at least that's what it seemed like. With haste, you finished tying up your strands and hurried down to the floor below, “Lucille! Thomas?!”

“She's a bloody slag!” a voice from downstairs hollered and you were almost positive that the tone belonged to Lucille. Thomas’ voice chimed in seconds later, “she hasn't done anything, Lucille, I still love you. Lucille listen to m-” a sharp sound rang through the air, no doubt a palm flying through the air and making contact with unsuspecting skin.

A hiss of pain followed before a woman's sob filled the air, quiet and soft. “I'm sorry…” The atmosphere was tense and when you peaked around the corner you took in the sight of Thomas hunched over, cradling his pale face. From between his fingers, a thick line of red rose and floated into the air, no doubt more blood seeping through than before.

Lucille sat beside him, hugging his form close to hers, gaze turned down. 

The minute your weight shifted, a stair creaked and both of the Sharpes glanced up at you, one face angry and the other relieved. “I’m terribly sorry to intrude. Excuse me,” you quickly stuttered out, eyes trained on the female's stern ones. “No, stay,” it wasn't Lucille who had spoken this time but her brother. The room fell into one of the quietest silences you had ever experienced, emotions flying through the air, no doubt radiating off of Lucille.

The male ignored his sister's surprised gaze, standing up and fading before reappearing once again directly in front of you. “Shall we go upstairs for the time being?” he questioned softly, clothed hand still soothing his bloody face.


	3. Ghost Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you are thrown back into your past all the way back to the very beginning
> 
> Inspiration: Ghost Three  
> https://youtu.be/pp_8rMtHht8

The two of you had ascended upstairs and to the bedroom. Once in the designated location, you sat quietly on the bed while Thomas closed the door. “Let me see your face,” you quickly barked out once the structures were shut.

The ghost stared at you for a moment before slowly removing his bandaged hand. “Sit.”

Thomas hesitantly came and sat beside you on the sheets as you inspected his cheek, brow furrowed, “tell me.” The male shifted his eyes onto your own, lips set in a firm line before they parted, “it was nothing more than a mere slap-” “That made your face bleed more than it already has, did she cut you?”

He was quiet for a long moment before his voice rose up from the quiet, “the wound is delicate and aches from small amounts of pressure, let alone a hit. It aches such as my sister's skull during times of screams.” You paused for a moment, mouth moving in an attempt to speak but shutting at the last minute.

Scrunching your brows further than they already were, you turned your gaze down, “her head aches?” He gave a nod of affirmation, “her death was born by the metal of a spade to her head.”

You were about to speak once more before Thomas let his hand move to your own, not quite touching but almost. His eyes glanced down, his fourth finger reaching out towards your hand in his own way of asking for approval as he sought out comfort. You held your gaze still as you stared at his hand for a second before sighing and letting your palm rest upon his hand. 

Thomas’ hand turned upwards, his fingers lacing together with yours and then you spoke, “don't you love her?”

Those golden, black eyes darted up in search for your own, locking your gaze, “I do, but the time for romance and intimacy is over for her. It was over when Edith came here but now that she no longer remains here...I have fallen out of love such as I did with you. I do not love long, I simply seek out comfort, something I despise about myself greatly. But…” you bit your lip, he had loved you? He had loved you before you had left, so if you had stayed it-no. No, he would have played you like a card. Despite these facts, a tear slipped down your face, your face turned towards the wall while your hand rested upon his.

“But I fear that I did not fully fall away from you...you were the first aside from Lucille, so close to her and the other true occupant of this house. You were the only one that was given the opportunity to live here for as long as you wished, the only one my dear sister approved of yet…” he reached his other hand down to your chin, body turned to face you as he turned your head up, eye to eye, “yet you left. You left, taking a fourth of our money with you. Why?”

You looked down, eyes locked on the fingers that held your chin, wanting nothing more than to lean into that hand that you had loved a year ago and that you had come to love once again over these few days. “I had to, don't you see? I couldn't watch...watch what happened to Edith. I couldn't watch the two of you corrupt her as you did with Enola,” you went silent, but not for long, “what did become of her, Edith?”

“She lived,” Thomas said softly, “ran out with her companion, Alan, I believe.” You nodded softly, eyes trailing up to Thomas’. “Does it make you uncomfortable?” you jolted slightly, entranced by your own thoughts and awakened by his voice.

“Does what make me uncomfortable?” Thomas spoke up once again after your question was strung out into the air, “this appearance of mine.” You let your eyes wander over him upon instinct, taking in his form once more before answering. Tattered, singed trousers accompanied by the seared, golden brown vest; brown shoes resting silently on the floor. His white undershirt resting softly beneath the singed garment, the ends of the sleeves painted red with clay, as you assumed anyways. 

His gentle face pale, irises golden while where the white should have been had been dyed black, pupils slightly blown though not from any feeling of adoration or lust. The hole resting just above the hill of his cheek continuously flowing red. 

Reaching your palm up, you caressed just below it, “only a bit…” Thomas softly leaned into your touch, his own hand coming up to rest on your cheek, “thank you.”

A rough pounding came from the door and Thomas jolted upwards, face and hand tearing away from you, your head traveling a short distance in an attempt to keep the contact before you eventually stood up. 

Lucille marched into the room, face devoid of emotion, “i'd like to be alone with our dear...friend.” Thomas stood where he was, hesitant on moving. His fail to obey caused the ravenette to speak up once more, “alright, then my dear, will you join me on a short walk?” 

Both you and Thomas shared a glance before Lucille grabbed onto your wrist, her grip harsh as she pulled you out of the room. “Lucille?” Thomas softly called out, following the two of you after a moment, “Lucille, what are you doing?” His voice rose as he picked up his pace, the female in front of you doing the same, stopping when she reached the railing. “Lucille stop!” Thomas was just above the two of you, fading and reappearing closer. 

The woman angrily turned you to face her and then you suddenly realized what she was intending to do. Attempting to get away from the edge, you flung yourself forward only for the ravenette to take advantage of your loss of balance. It was almost slow when it happened.

She pushed you over the railing, high from the floor, and as you went over the edge you witnessed as Thomas appeared right beside Lucille, only able to teleport short distances. The sister stared down at you, lips curled up in a smug smile as you fell and fell and fell. 

With hands flying in the air, which were desperately reaching out to grab ahold of something, you plummeted down the many levels of the house before landing with a thud in the snow at the bottom. “Thomas..?” you whispered out softly, snowflakes floating down from the wreck in the roof. Through your blurry vision you could see Thomas attempt to get past his sister, “let her die,” Lucille said, her voice hazy in your ears but her brother was relentless, pushing past her and darting down the stairs.

“Are you alright?” his hand rested on your cheek while the other took ahold of your palm that rested lazily on the snowy floor, “come now, answer me, blink at me.” That was all you could do, blink. Sending him a pair of blinks accompanied by a stray tear, you faded in and out of consciousness. “Now stay awake for me, please, that's all I ask. There you go, eyes open now,” his voice was quick as he began prodding at your body, scanning you for broken bones.

You felt a stab of pain in your lower back and that was all it took to send you into the black void, a quiet scream dying on the back of your tongue.

 

Finding yourself drifting in the hazy depths of black, you searched for a light in the darkness, a light to relieve this sluggish feeling you were currently experiencing. You were floating, you were falling, you were sleeping, you were awake. You were everything at once, all over the place as you searched. Finally, a bright orb floated into your vision, floating into your hands as you drew near.

Once the entity made itself at home in your palms, it absorbed you, pulling your body into its once seemingly small space. You fell and you fell, a body quickly approaching within your vision and you felt so very drawn to it.

Drawn to it you were, falling directly in the person and swaying them slightly. Looking down at your hands, you came to the realization that this person-this body was indeed your own. Gaze confused, you turned your eyes upwards, your surroundings familiar to you from the many years ago. Four years ago to be exact.

Your surroundings began to familiarize themselves as you finally remembered where you currently resided: France.

Going off the current time and year, it had been a few months ago that you had gathered up the remainders of your savings in order to achieve getting here. Your parents had been sent off on a voyage long before your own journey which had left you alone for nearly a decade. 

Just yesterday you had been living in London, the only home you had known all your life. You had come to France for its elegance, its beauty, using all of your life savings just to get here and buy a cheap, run down house. London was beautiful and it had been hard to leave but the nostalgia did not treat you kindly, practically stabbing you with unwanted memories.

Upon arriving here, there had been nothing but trouble. You struggled with achieving the task in acquiring a job, struggled with paying the taxes on your house, and struggled more than anything just to keep yourself alive. 

Currently you were standing in the middle of the road, men on their wagon shouting at you in French. Apologizing, you quickly scampered out of the way, arriving on the side of the road just in time to collide with someone.

Muttering an apology once more, you looked up to see a gentleman clothed in black, spectacles perched upon the bridge of his nose while a hat rested upon his black locks. “It is no trouble, do not fret,” he said softly, a smile forming on his pale lips. Instantly entranced by his gaze, you glanced down at the ground.

“Oh, i'm terribly sorry, I forgot my manners,” the man softly began, “i'm Thomas, Thomas Sharpe,” he held his hand out to you. “Pleasure,” you shook his hand before replying with your name.

That was all it took for the two of you to begin a conversation that quickly flowed to another and took up the whole day. It was only when you went to shake his hand once more that he offered you a proposal.

“Why stay here struggling? Come home with me and my sister,” he had said softly, words falling off his lips in an almost urging kind of way. 

You wanted to, really did, but then what would all of that money have gone to? It would have been a waste. But then again, you couldn't even speak French, a rather foolish move on your part, and if he was willing to help then you were almost more than willing to take it. You had just met him today though, less than eight hours ago, it would be considered unacceptable back in London. 

“You said you lived in England right, Crimson Peak?” Once you received a nod, you furrowed your brows in thought, “well…” Thomas smiled, “it would be a pleasure to have you, my wife would be delighted to have you.” 

“Your wife?” you smiled, “what's she like?” Thomas seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking up, “kind, caring, the stereotypical princess,” he finished off with a smile of his own. Though you were a bit disappointed that he was married and disappointed in yourself for not noticing his ring, you gave it one more moment of thought before inevitably agreeing to come live with him.

“It will be a great pleasure to have you at the manor, we board a ship tomorrow to return home,” he said with such a gentle tone, so gentle it was like a feather's touch. In return to his response, you threw a smile in along with a nod.

 

You did not return to your home that night, instead following Thomas home to his small family. The first person you were introduced to was his sister: Lucille. She was rather odd, but kind to you none the less, the bond only growing between you every second you spoke. Thomas; however, tore you away from your conversation to introduce you to his wife: Enola. You soon came to find out that she was from Italy, she was a rather charming young woman full of smiles and bright spirits.

Already becoming quite acquainted with the two women, you shared a few laughs before Thomas tapped your shoulder. “May I have a word with my wife and sister alone, please?” Smiling and nodding softly, you got up from your seat, going out of the room and softly closing the door behind you. Almost immediately, the man spoke up from behind the closed doors, “so what do you think of her?”

Lucille spoke first, “she is alright, for a French woman.” Thomas cut in, “that's where you're wrong, dear sister, she is from London. She came here to find a new life but found it was not as great as it was fabricated to be,” he said softly.

Enola spoke up after that, “I think she is very lovely, she seems like a charming young lady,” she paused for a moment, “excuse me, i'm parched, I'll be back in a moment.” You heard her shuffle from behind the doors and in your hasty attempt to hide, ducked behind a chair shrouded in shadows. The door opened before clicking shut once more, Enola’s shoes tapping softly against the floor as she made her way to the kitchen.

Lucille’s voice chimed in, “how much longer must we continue this act?” 

“Just be patient, dear sister, she'll be signing the papers in another few months or so,” Thomas softly said, his voice low and hushed. A long silence stretched out before being broken by the female, “and what about that other girl, why did you bring her?” There was an audible sigh on Thomas’ end, “she seemed intriguing, like she could potentially lighten the mood around the house, she tells very good stories.”

Lucille snorted, repositioning herself in her chair by the sounds of it before her silky voice spoke once again, “you're rather lucky then, I quite like her. Better than that slag of a wife you're married to currently.”

Currently? Why did she speak so ill of the wife? Perhaps it was just that the sister didn't approve of the marriage, but what about you? Was that really all Thomas wanted out of you? Shaking your head, you slunk out of the shadows and stood in front of the door. What did they mean by papers, was Enola some sort of criminal? Or perhaps the siblings wanted something from her and they were the villains. There was definitely more to the Sharpes than meets the eyes.

A small squeak came from behind you and you twisted around to see Enola standing there with her glass of water. “I'm sorry, I seem to have startled you,” you said softly, a smile in your eyes. Though you had become quite acquainted with her, there was no way you were going to admit to her what you had just heard moments ago through those wooden doors.

“It's alright, eavesdropping are you?” she asked with a barely noticeable smirk, sipping at her water. “Just a bit,” you placed your index finger to your lips in a sign to keep quiet. Enola gave a small chuckle and nodded, sipping her glass of water once again, “Thomas keeping any fascinating secrets from me?” she asked softly.

Though it twisted your heart into a knot to lie to such a seemingly sweet, oblivious woman, you did it regardless, “other than the fact he loves you more than he probably lets on, no.” Smiling widely up at you, she opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the creak of a door opening. 

Thomas bumped into you and you jumped slightly, startled by the contact. The man placed a hand on your shoulder to soothe your nerves, mind you that instantly relaxed you to the core. It was unnerving how undyingly infatuated you were with this man's attention. “I'm terribly sorry, I didn't realize you had been standing there,” Thomas said softly, a smile on his face. His eyes betrayed his happiness, orbs knowing that you had heard it all.

You smiled back, your own orbs showing your nervousness as you took a step back, allowing his wife to shower him in affection.

Lucille came over to you, smiling softly though her eyes held the same looks her brother's had, “charming aren't they?” She was playing this game all the way, “indeed they are.”

The ravenette tipped her head up, staring at you through the corner of her eye in an almost condescending way, “did you enjoy listening to us?” You paused for a moment, “not much to hear besides the fact you are fond of me, that's all I got to hear anyways,” you replied with, a small smile on your face.

Though Lucille's eyes still held suspicion, they seemed to cloud with relief at your words, most likely assuming your words were the truth.

The two of you turned your gazes back to the couple, yours fixed on Enola while Lucille's were trained on Thomas, the both of you watching them as they pulled apart from each other. Thomas smiled as his wife ran her fingers through his curly locks, laughing softly as he stared down at her.

Leaning down, he embraced her small form, muttering sweet nothings into her ears all the while staring directly at you, eyes mimicking Lucille's undying suspicion.

How much of all of this was an act?


	4. Wake Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration: Wake Up by Eden  
> https://youtu.be/cCp0OSOe4cI

Months passed and you had noticed small changes about Enola, how weak she began to appear. It had started last month and right now, at this point, Thomas had went out in search for a wheelchair.

While the man was out on his hunt, Enola turned to you, her eyes squinted in worry and brows scrunched up in pain. “Please tell me you've tasted it too, the tea, have you heard them at night?” Confused, you rose a brow at her, “tasted what? Heard who?” You gripped her shoulders softly, searching up into her eyes.

“The poison in the tea. Lucille and Thomas,” she was speaking so rushed before she doubled over coughing, specks of scarlet landing in her palm. 

You held onto her, making sure she didn't fall, out of the corner of your eye you witnessed Thomas approach the two of you from afar. Returning your gaze back to her, you whispered out, “no, I haven't. I'll keep those two things in mind for you though, stay strong.”

By the time you had muttered your words, Thomas was near enough for you to hear the soft squeak of the chair, “here you are, love.” Enola cast a skeptical gaze up at her husband, eyes holding a look showing that she could see through some sort of lie. What lie it was, you did not know. Despite her wary gaze, she sat down in the chair, her form weak from whatever was causing her illness.

Thomas leaned down and kissed her cheek, the female flinching away slightly in response. Once standing at his full height once more, the ravenette motioned you to follow him. You gave him a nod in return, casting Enola a glance. Though the friendship you held with her wasn't as strong as the one you wielded with Lucille, it was no reason for you not to look out for her. Your gaze was ripped away from her as you were led down the hallway and to the staircase.

Once down the stairs, Thomas stopped before you and yanked you into a room, “what exactly did you hear all those months ago?”

You paused, mind searching through your memory. All the way through from your first week here, to the first day, to your voyage, all the way back to when you had eavesdropped behind those doors at the Sharpe's temporary home.

Aside from you and Enola forming an acquaintanceship, you had acquired quite close ties to the man of the house as well, a small friendship in the making with his sister.

Trusting him, you revealed what you had heard as best you could, “something about Lucille hating your wife and...papers being signed in a few months.”

Thomas paused, eyes hardening before he attempted to march past you, you grabbed his arm at the last minute. “What were those papers and have they been signed?”

The question had slipped so carelessly from your lips which immediately sent Thomas into a hasty state. “You need not know any of that information,” he yanked his arm out of your grasp. You paused, shock and hurt flashing through your eyes, you had thought that he would have trusted you enough to reveal at least a few secrets about himself. Thomas saw it, remorse filling his chest before he let a sigh pass his lips.

An index finger tilted your chin up, his eyes locked on yours, “I know you are close with Enola, heed my words and do not grow closer.”

What, why? Did he not approve of your very tiny friendship with her or was she...was she going to die? It would make sense if the second option was true, how weak she was, how stressed the siblings appeared to be. But what about the poison Enola had mentioned to you? It was probably nothing, the tea was very bitter but there was certainly no poison, perhaps her taste was different. Maybe she was imagining it all and she was just coincidentally deathly ill.

Lucille came stomping down the stairs and Thomas ripped his grip off of you, his short nails scratching you slightly. The woman marched up to you, roughly grabbing your arm, “do not tiptoe around this, you know.”

Confused beyond comprehension, you furrowed your brows, “what?” The ravenette must have seen your genuine confusion, her lips tightening into a thin line, “about her illness, haven't you heard?”

Puzzled only a bit now, you nodded, “of course I know, she's retching up blood, how could I not see that?”

Lucille was hiding something from you but you didn't dare question her, “alright, good to know you were properly informed then.”

You nodded, eyes roaming up to Thomas for an explanation on her behavior but he simply stared down at you as if nothing seemed off about his sister. That was all you seemed to be able to recall about that particular day for it was a haze of actions, the night however, you remembered clearly.

You awoke to the sound of a soft voice singing somewhere down the stairs, sweet and velvety. Nervous that it would turn out to be another ghost, as you had so nicely encountered on your first night here, you shifted in your bed. However, the urge to seek it out won over your logical thinking, you were like a sailor drawn to sirens at sea.

Climbing out of bed, one that resided just below the attic, you fluffed out your gown. Once you looked decently presentable, you followed the sound, feet tiptoeing on the floor quietly. 

The sound had you climb down a flight of stairs before turning just beside the elevator. Still fearing of a ghost, you pushed the door open with caution. Figuring Thomas was sleeping with Enola and not expecting Lucille to reside here, you stopped at what you saw. 

You had stopped a mere few feet from the bed, Lucille and Thomas tangled within each other arms. The man let his lips trail a line of kisses down the woman's neck while Lucille's hand was buried within Thomas’ trousers.

Shock consumed you and you fell over your own two feet in an attempt to back away. Thomas was already looking at you and his sister's gaze soon followed before she got up and marched over to you, her hand flying across your cheek.

That was all it took for a jumble of words to fly past your lips, “i'm terribly-terribly sorry. I-I heard your singing, at first I thought it was a ghost but I got curious, I swear to you I didn't realize this was your room,” in that time you had scuttled away from her, fear grasping your very core. They were in a relationship? Thomas was married and-and-and she was his sister! The confusion and fear caused your own thoughts to stutter and that's how you managed to realize how terrified you were, how bad you currently took this as.

Lucille stopped in front of you and that's when you noticed Thomas was at your side. “You are not to speak to Enola about this-to anyone,” the woman barked out. Not wanting to soil the small friendship you had with her, you nodded, eyes wide. The Sharpes had been your only friends in god knows how long and since you held more of a friendship with them than Enola, you weren't about to lose them, more or less die. Despite how crazy they might be, you were willing to stay.

Thomas tossed you a pitiful look, gaze hard like a shell but soft beneath its outer coat. He offered you his hand and you took it, climbing off the ground from where you had once sat. Instead of being disgusted, you simply blew it off as if it had never happened at all, the obvious intimacy they were having at least. The subtle threat in Lucille's voice had been what you remembered and the confusion of why you still trusted her that broke your firm mask.

With the man's hand still held firmly in your own, you had crumpled, weeping softly but refusing your own urges to flee the house. If you ran, they would chase you, you were sure of it. You didn't hold on to Thomas but he eventually embraced your shaking form, Lucille glancing over at the two of you. You did not return the contact but when he pulled away, you did miss the touch. Though the love for him you had managed to form since first sight had been sullied, it had only been slightly. Your love for him still ran strong though now with two women bent over, kneeling at his feet, you didn't want to be a part of this love triangle.

Once you had calmed yourself enough to speak, you let your trembling voice run free, “the tea, the tea you poisoned it, you're killing her. Why?” The two of them looked at you in surprise, “how do you know about the tea? We have not been dosing you with it,” Lucille said, her tone flat and bitter though her eyes betrayed how she spoke.

“She knows..” you whispered out, “she knows everything...I think.”

Thomas still had a soft grip on your shoulders, eyes scanning over your shaking form with an unknown fondness. Lucille wrenched you out of his grasp much to your dismay and you shook even more, “what does she know, what does she know?” Her voice picked up in volume the second time she spoke that sentence and you sobbed, “just the tea, just the tea and the relationship!”

Lucille's grip softened on you, “she already knows about us but…” there was a pause, “you lied, there's no way.” A cry left your lips, “she heard you, I just found you now please, oh my god i'm so sorry.”

Thomas pulled you away from the woman, his touch tender, “that's enough Lucille.”

The female paused, “if she knows then you might as well too,” silence stretched for a few moments before words began tumbling from her lips. Why she detested Enola so much, what the papers were-the documents, why the woman was even married to Thomas, why all of this was even happening, all the way back to when this had all started and why.

At the end it had only managed to make you even more puzzled, ultimately forcing you into a state in which you sought out comfort. Thomas was beside you, his hands resting on your arms now and all you could do was turn and sob into his chest.

All of this was awful, awful yet you understood. It was almost as if a life had been laid out before your eyes and in a way it had, both the siblings background basically placed in front of you. 

Since Lucille's subtle threats had most certainly been bluffs due to your close friendship, she had went all the way back to when their mother was still alive-how she had killed her. How long this incestuous relationship had gone on and why. Lucille and Thomas only had each other to rely on their urges for, only trusted each other and no one else. 

Why they did this, why they fooled around with the innocent hearts of women. It was marriage and murder, marry a wealthy woman and get her to sign the papers before ending her. The money required to keep the house aloft, to fund Thomas’ inventions, to keep the food supply stocked.

And the worst part of it was that you understood, was that you almost sympathized with them, that you just bloody understood their side of the story. The fact you held respect for them, held adoration for them as close friends still disturbed you. You should hate them, you shouldn't want to be near them yet here you were-here you were. Hugging Thomas as Lucille let her own tears out, only staring as you sobbed. Here you were still trusting them.

After your sobs had died down, Lucille spoke, “and now I am with child.”

It was like a rock dropped to the pit of your stomach, there was no way she'd be hiding that from Enola even if she wanted to try, the wife's thoughts would be confirmed.

“W-what? How long?” your words sounded so weak as you turned to her, Thomas’ arms releasing your body from the soothing embrace as his palms fell to your shoulders.

“Six months,” she said softly, voice tender as she spoke. You looked down at her, nothing noticeable though she was wearing flowing robes at the moment, “but…”

Thomas spoke up for the first time that night, “she is very petite as of right now, the child too.” Nodding softly, you walked out of Thomas’ grasp and to the door, “i’m…i’m going back to bed.”

Lucille stared at you, eyes searching for something that would let her know she could trust you, she seemed to find it after a moment. That's when you realized, within her folded hands she held a dagger. Eyes wide, you looked up into her eyes, putting your hands up and backing away slowly. She bit her lip and you continued what you were doing until out of the room to which you gently shut the door. Once outside the room, you picked up the soft voice of Enola talking to herself.

Climbing up the stairs, you followed the voice, it was on your way to your bedroom anyways. Upon reaching her, you saw that she was sitting in her wheelchair...recording herself. Confused but not feeling the urge to question, you attempted to walk past her. “Wait,” she said softly, coughs erupting from her. You paused, turning to face her and watching as she shut the mechanism off. Once she locked eyes with yours she asked you, “did you hear them now?” 

After a moment you nodded, her voice ringing into the air again, “and the tea?” Once again you nodded, having no words left to describe your shock. One final question was flung into the air before she fell silent, “are you in on this too?”

You shook your head, you'd only tell her the things she questioned, nothing more. You had given Lucille your word you'd keep quiet but if Enola already knew these things what was the point?

The woman before you nodded, letting her head fall, “you may go now.” Nodding softly, your own eyes still wide from what had played out with Lucille and Thomas. Slowly you made your way back to your room, ears barely picking up the sound of Enola resuming her act in recording her recent events.

 

Two months passed and in that time Enola had found out about Lucille's pregnancy, if a woman could shatter, Enola would have been a pile of shards. She had appeared to physically deflate, pain swimming in her eyes. She had already signed the documents granting the Sharpes her inheritance, her body too weak to carry her to safety. She barely moved anymore, should have been bed ridden but refused.

Lucille fell into labor that morning, a month earlier than expected. Fearing for the child, Thomas fled to Enola for she had minor medical experience. The woman promised to help his sister, holding nothing against the child.

Currently you stood just behind the closed door, Thomas had requested you wait outside and you didn't refuse.

Lucille's screams could be heard through the door for hours and you could picture Thomas holding her hand as she attempted over and over to push the lifeform out of her body, Enola assisting as best she could to deliver it.

Around an hour passed before Lucille fell silent and a new scream was heard, quiet and barely audible. It was far weaker than it should have been.

The door opened revealing a very frail and weak Enola, she practically fell into your arms when it was over and you barely managed to catch her. “Enola? Enola, stay with me, here come on,” you whispered to her softly as you helped her hobble up to her room, laying her down upon the bed once you reached it.

You hastily made her a cup of tea, going over to her and handing her the cup, she refused it. “It's not poisoned, I promise,” you took a small sip from the cup, “please, it will strengthen you for awhile.”

Remaining mute, she nodded and you held the cup up to her lips, holding her head up as you trickled the liquid down her throat. “Would you like another cup?” you quietly asked her once she had finished. She softly shook her head and motioned you away, her eyes silently thanking you.

Nodding and setting the cup down on the tray, you scampered off and sprinted down the stairs back down to Lucille's room. Once at the doorway, you were just in time to see Thomas smile as he held the infant, a true father figure despite the tears-wait, why tears? His sister; however, frowned softly before turning to you, “it is sickly.”

Looking directly at her, you spoke quietly, “what will you do?” Thomas turned to you, smile fading and the tears springing free before he turned back to Lucille, “I can't be the one to do this.”

The woman took her child back from Thomas, cradling it with care before she looked up at you with tears in her eyes. 

“I'm going to kill it.”

You paused, watching as her brother walked up to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and ushering you out. You didn't move, “you-you can't just-” she silenced you, “I can and I will, Enola has deemed it as sickly. She tried to fix the problem but it's internal, it's not going to live either way.”

Horrified, you let Thomas push you out of the room, watching as he closed the door. You took to staring at the floor, your hands blindly reaching out for your friend's. Thomas saw it and grabbed ahold of your palm, holding onto it softly. “How can she do that to her child...your child..” You didn't fancy infants but this seemed a bit too far, to just end it. Though you supposed it was for the best if it really was sickly.

The man beside you huffed softly, “it is...for the best,” he mimicked your thoughts.

The soft screaming from the other side of the door was cut off abruptly and you stiffened, turning to Thomas. Salty drops of water slipped down his cheeks, “and that's the end of that.”

You reached up to his cheek, wiping the tears away softly with the pad of your thumb. Thomas didn't react, simply stared at the door as your fingers danced across his cheeks, sweeping away the tears.

After a moment, when the waterfall had calmed, you let your hands drop to your side but he took one of them into his own.

A long, eerie silence dragged out before Thomas softly muttered the chilling words you could have lived without, “Enola’s next, by Lucille's command.”


	5. Resting Beaneath Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration: Love Love Love by Of Monsters and Men  
> https://youtu.be/ZzsLa1g6iqY

You turned to the ravenette, “she's to die? Why?” Your eyes were wide, wider than the dinner plates in the kitchen. Thomas turned to you, “the documents have been signed, the inheritance is ours. I do not love her and she knows this, there is no use for her.”

You bit your lip and took a step away from him, your hand still held in his, “are you going to kill me too?”

A long silence settled between the both of you before he parted his lips, “we should but we're not going to, Lucille thinks of you as a sister and I, a dear friend. But if you make the choice to flee from this land, it may not welcome you if you return.”

You nodded, did he think you would tell someone if you ever left? You wouldn't because they'd hang him, imprison Lucille. Though they were monstrous, so were you, so was every human. They just wanted to stay alive, keep the house up, and this was the only way. They could get a job, get out of here…

But they didn't want to and you'd respect that as best you could.

Thomas looked at you for a moment, tears still clinging to his cheeks until he suddenly smiled. It was a somber little thing, his brows scrunching together, “but you won't leave right?” He sounded so hopeful, perhaps you had brought a small amount of his sanity back, just another person here besides his crazed sister and a temporary wife.

You looked up at him, your own tears coating your glassy eyes, lip trembling, “I won't.”

He turned towards you so he was fully facing you, taking both of your hands into his own before letting out a choked sob and enveloping you in a tight embrace, “thank you.”

 

The next days passed slowly, Enola's tea given higher and higher doses of arsenic to the point she could not leave the bed even if she so desired. You sat at her bedside, her tea always so warm and perfect when you made it, or so she would tell you. You never tainted the liquid, wanted to avoid the corruption as much as possible. Though you didn't go to town and tell the people of the Sharpes nor did you attempt to save this woman, therefore the blood still splattered onto your hands. Your palms would be just as red as both Lucille's and Thomas', just not as soaked.

Thomas came over to the room every now and again, and Enola would always look away from his face, he no longer spoke to her. He spoke to you instead and during a particular conversation, Enola’s ruby ring was brought up. Upon the mention of the jewelry, the woman had weakly fumbled with it on her finger, attempting to get it off. Thomas noticed of course and moved from your side to hers.

“May I?” Enola didn't speak, just shoved her hand in his and let him take the ring, though he gently slipped it off she still flinched, a pang of hurt flashing through her eyes.

Agony churched in your glossy orbs, how much pain she must have felt both physically and emotionally. She had thought this would be a great marriage, a new start. Probably just like all the other oblivious women. 

It hurt you to see something so innocent become tainted by the lies of the Sharpes, tainted by everything corrupt here. In a way, it pained you to see the marriage fall apart.

Enola had fallen into a light sleep after that and you cried, cried because this would be one of her last sleeps, one of her last slumbers before she took her final one.

You could feel Thomas' eyes on you before his hand came to rest upon yours, “come with me.”

He sent you a reassuring smile and took your hand, wiping the tears from your eyes before helping you up. Your brows furrowed up as you stared up at him, your hair had began to fall out of its Victorian bun, strands loosely falling to the side. Thomas brushed one behind your ear and you let him because he was your friend and nothing more, nothing less.

“Come now, this will lighten your spirits, well...I hope it will,” he smiled, nervously almost, before leading you out of the room and up the stairs. It didn't take you long for you to come to the conclusion that the two of you were headed to the attic.

You wiped at your face with your free hand, other hand still held within the ravenette's who delivered a reassuring squeeze. Upon reaching it, you were met with the sight of numerous moths latched onto a wall. Still holding Thomas' hand, you marveled at the beauty, a smile on your face. It was small but most certainly noticeable.

The man beside you glanced down at you, his own smile playing on his lips which went unnoticed. “Is this your workshop, the one you've told me about before?” You turned to Thomas, catching the last remains of his smile along with a nod. “I didn't think you'd show me…” 

You were met with a chuckle in response, “and why wouldn't I?”

Giving him a shrug and glancing down, tipping your head sideways, you gave him your answer, “i'm not your sister and i'm not your wife, certainly not anyone close.”

“Thats wrong, you're very close to me,” he said quietly, eyes fixed upon you, “hence the reason you're alive.”

Your smile faded away into nothing, eyes glancing at the cracks in the floor, “will I die here?” 

A long silence filled the air before he pushed you against the wall, moths scurrying about in an attempt to get away, flying into the air around you. With wide eyes, you looked up, lashes trembling as you stared up at him, “Thomas?”

His next words came out in a jumbled, sincere mess, “you will not die and even if Lucille comes to detest your existence here, I will always offer you a place here. Even if you leave and even if you want to come back, I will always leave a spot open for you. My sister may become cold, may come to hate you, but I…,” he paused, leaning in closer so his nose almost touched the tip of yours.

Tapping came from the hallway, footsteps quickly approaching the attic. Thomas stared at you for a second through hooded eyes before pulling away from you, his hand softly leaving your own.

Lucille walked in only seconds later, “Thomas,” she turned the corner and noticed you, sending you a smile and a nod before glancing back up at her brother, lips pulled into a tight line.

“She's dead.”

You froze, an instant chill crawling through your very core. Normally with someone on such a status: acquaintance, they would not have your tears but...but her death was partially on your hands. You were practically a murderer, you had let this happen!

You stared down at the floor, globs of water slipping loose from your eyes, your knees quivering in the sunlight. 

An arm hung around your shoulders and you glanced up, it was Thomas. Letting out a breathy sob, you moved away, whispering quietly to the both of them, “ex-excuse me.”

Thomas' fingertips danced on the edges of your shoulder as you slipped away, quietly gliding over to the doorway. Lucille grabbed ahold of your forearm with a gentle touch, “where are you going?” You halted in your place, “I'm going outside,” Lucille stared at you for a moment before releasing you.

You quickly scuttled away, your destination still the same for you had told her no lie. Behind you, you could hear quiet mumbles slipping free from their mouths.

Climbing down the stairs, you arrived at the door, quietly opening it and darting outside.

With your dress blowing behind you, your feet crunching against the melting snow, you stopped under the tree outside. It wasn't far from the mansion but far enough, far enough you couldn't see the details of the building.

The cares you once wielded faded as you collapsed onto the ground and wept, curled back brushing against the frozen bark. The updo you had so quickly formed that morning now fell apart, silky strands tumbling into your face.

Footsteps crunched off in the distance and you had half the mind to look up, glancing in the direction of the being. It was Thomas.

He smiled softly at you, it was…bittersweet, reassuring. Quietly he sat next to you, leaning against your side, all you could do was stare at him through soaked eyes.

“So you stayed…” he spoke out after a while and you tossed him a confused, saddened stare. “Me and Lucille thought you might have left,” he finished, hesitantly resting his appendage around your biceps. You didn't budge, your form rigid as you remained in place.

“I killed her, we killed her,” you quietly whispered out, “what have we done?” You stared down at your knees, expression horror stricken as your eyes grew glassy once again.

Thomas stared at you for a moment, eyes scanning over you, “you didn't kill her, didn't even know about the poison until it was too late, how could you have killed her? The blame is on me and Lucille alone,” he leaned in closer to you, arm tugging you closer, “please don't put this on yourself.”

Giving in and letting a sob escape your mouth, you turned to him, eyes desperate, “I didn't stop it, I could have went to town and helped her. There's-there's,” you held your hands up to your face, staring at them as if they weren't your own, “there's blood on my hands, it's there-it's there. My hands are just as red, just as red, Thomas,” salt filled water glided down your cheeks with ease, “but I couldn't.” Soft whimpers escaped your throat and the ravenette gazed at you wearily, so you had thought about going to the village? Of course you would, you probably feared for your life.

After a few moments, the inventor opened his mouth, voice hushed, “couldn't what?”

You turned to him, eyes swimming with misery as you stared up into his face, “I couldn't and can't go to town, I refuse to watch your neck snap and I refuse to watch Lucille become caged like an animal.”

Thomas pulled away from you briefly, arm still softly clinging to you as he stared, eyes filled with curiosity and awe. His head had tilted away slightly and he was glancing at you from the corner of his eye as if you were a predator, yet the softness that inhabited his eyes told you different.

Moments passed, your tears dwindling down to small droplets of water every now and again. The two of you simply passed gazes at each other, orbs searching the other's face for something it didn't quite seem to find.

Out of the blue, Thomas suddenly bundled you up in his arms, nose nuzzled within your hair. “What are you doing? Get off me,” your voice was hoarse, forced into a hushed tone as you spoke. Your palms, now sweaty, attempted to push him off though half heartedly, “she’ll see.”

The man didn't release you, simply squeezed you tighter, kissing your hair much to your surprise. Shaking, you let your fingers rest upon the sides of his torso, just below his ribs, “you don't love me.”

He paused, hands moving into your hair and slipping through the locks, “I do...I do.” You shook your head, “i'm not stupid, I know how skilled that tongue is, how easily it can fabricate lies out of nothing.” 

A moment of silence before his lips connected with your forehead, his palms resting upon your cheeks, “that is true. This is no lie though, please trust me.” You opened your mouth to protest but closed it upon eye contact, his eyes held such a genuine look of love. It was unlike the emotion that he had expressed towards Enola, it was an emotion stronger than even the glances he gave Lucille.

“Don't look at me like that…” you said quietly, averting your eyes to which he softly turned your gaze back to him. “Why?” It was such a simple question, so very simple. The two of you were already close friends, so close. You were pretty sure that everyone knew how disgustingly head over heels you were for the man but you'd kept silent. Fear of Lucille's wrath, though you were quite close with her as well, and fear of betraying Enola had kept you away. Fear for yourself was also strong considering it was difficult to detect whether Thomas was feigning his emotions or not.

“I...I can't trust you,” you said quietly,watching with sadness as his eyes clouded up with a look of hurt but understanding. “Can I kiss you, just this once, love?” Pain seized you and turned you to ice, hasn't this been what you had dreamed of, what you dreamt of in the night as the edges of your dress were pulled up? You looked down, eyes travelling back up despite the downward tip of your head, “yes.”

He smiled this...this bittersweet smile, it hurt so much to gaze upon it. With slow movements, he brought his chapped lips to yours, palms resting on the sides of your face. With trembling fingers, you brought your own hands to rest upon his cheeks. You were afraid, afraid your resolve would crumble and you'd give in to him, that you'd be another victim that would be inevitably slaughtered.

His hand trailed down from your face, to your shoulder, and finally rested upon your hip. That was when you pulled away, “there, there's your kiss.” You carefully swiped the moisture from your lip before turning your flushed gaze away. 

He seemed to think for a moment before bringing the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it softly before smiling sweetly at you, “thank you, love.”

After that, he simply stood and cast you a smile before walking back off to the manor with a bounce in his step.

Around three weeks had passed since then and you could practically feel the collapse of your emotional enclosure. Everyday from that god forsaken day Thomas had sent you smiles that ranged from sweet to cheeky and you had done your best to ignore them. Still fearing Lucille's reaction, you distanced yourself from him. Though in the end he'd always have you at his side while he invented items or walked the property. You'd, no doubt, always enjoy yourself before becoming an anxiety wracked wreck.

He’d always make you so giddy, so happy, and so bloody flushed. It was the worst beauty the world had to offer. 

Today though, everything was different, Thomas seemed to be avoiding you instead of the other way around.

Upon this realization, you had stopped at the stair railing, watching as the fluff of milkweed danced down to the floor from the roof. It was always peaceful to witness nature float down from the opening, though you always got a burst of adrenaline whenever you looked down at the floor so far below. 

A hand came to rest on your shoulder and you twitched, turning your gaze to glance behind you. Ebony, curly locks tickled your cheek as you were forced face to face with the man of your torturous emotions. He was bent at the back as to be at your level, eyes locked on yours, “you appear troubled.”

Leaning away from him, you scrunched up your brows, eyes squinted, “of course, you surprised me.”

He laughed quietly, backing away from you and letting his forearms rest lazily upon the railing, “i'm terribly sorry to startle you, but I meant about earlier today. Did you miss my presence perhaps?” You paused, how did he know? This bastard of a man seemed to know everything and it irked you to no end. “What makes you think that?”

Again, he chuckled, eyes twinkling, “you seemed...almost betrayed when I didn't speak to you, your eyes saddened.” 

White fluff floated down seemingly from the heavens in a slow, steady movement, “perhaps I was..” Blinking and returning your eyes back down to the floor below, you let that small swarm of adrenaline swim through your veins. You barely registered the pale fingers that softly grabbed at the tiny seed within your soft tangles.

Sparing him a glance through the corner of your eye, you witnessed as he smiled at the plant before blowing it from his fingers and into the air. You quietly watched as the item drifted in the wind, spiraling around in a tornado like pattern.

Letting your eyelids drift down, you stared up at him through half lidded eyes, “I will admit, you're quite persistent with your romantic antics, you're spinning quite the web for me. I'm impressed.”

He rose a brow at you, eyes continuing to twinkle, “antics? My dear, my actions are genuine, it offends me that you think of them as foolish let alone tricks.”

The corners of your lips turned upwards and you turned as to fully face him, “if you adore me oh so much and this isn't some lie, tell me. Tell me how much you cherish me so I know risking my life is worth it, make it so if Lucille decides to destroy me it's worth it. Make it so if betraying and hurting one of my closest friends is worth it.”

Thomas smiled fondly, eyes seemingly staring into the depths of your soul, “your eyes are as vibrant as the freshly born flowers in the morning, sprinkled with dew. Your skin, so silky it would cause the gods themselves to admire its flawlessness. Your kindness let alone your selflessness is admirable, so much so that Charis herself would be left in awe,” he moved closer to you, head tipped down so he could continue to stare at you. “I would never let Lucille hurt such a beautiful fawn such as yourself, i'd never let it be. I'd never let you regret the action in choosing to be with me,” his hands now rested upon your head, one in your hair and one on your cheek, just below your eye. “If only you knew what I truly thought of her, what really went on between us. We bonded through the abuse of our parents, through the feeling of only having each other.”

You stared up at him before your eyes inevitably ended up falling shut as you relaxed against his fingers, “tell me, tell me about your past. I want to know all of it.”

“With due time…” he said softly, leaning down, “so will you be mine?” You cracked your eyes open, orbs filling with affection, “if you'll stop trying to constantly court me and if you live up to your word...then yes.” Thomas smiled lovingly at you, “you can't cease my actions, even when I have you I will continue to bring you gifts as if I was still attempting to win your heart. Also I assure you that I will not fail to live up to my word, it will stand and remain strong and true. I'm glad you've agreed to be mine,” he finished quietly before stealing your tender lips with his own in an instant, his whole heart seemingly placed into the action.

A few moments passed before he pulled away, gazing into your eyes, “forever?” You gave a small nod, “forever.”


	6. Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration: Burn from Hamilton  
> https://youtu.be/PMX7dPFLmLA

You couldn't count the number of months that had passed since the two of you had began this vicious cycle, all the while keeping it away from Lucille. Thomas had stayed true to his word...until now.

You had assumed it had been around four months or so since the relationship had formed and just last month the two of you had discussed what he would do in the future: the marriage and murder tactic to be specific. He had firmly told you he would end the acts of those crimes but today...today he brought home his new wife, Edith, and just like with Enola, you grew to like her over the course of a day.

That angered you, that you could become acquainted with someone so easily despite their place here being unwelcomed. 

Both you and Lucille discussed your hatred in having her here, Lucille hating her existence and you just hating her being here. You would never admit that you were most upset for Thomas having broken his promise.

Miss Sharpe had already commenced in tainting the tea and once again you felt that unimaginable guilt bubble up from the depths of your core. Tonight you would leave, you had fled to Lucille earlier today and discussed it. With an upset frown, she nodded before pulling you into a hug, “you have no money,” she whispered. “I'll manage,” came your soft reply before you pulled away.

A dampness settled in her eyes before she spoke up, “why tonight?” Pulling away and folding your hands in front of you, you gazed up at her, “I need time to gather what little belongings I have.” She gave you a nod before pulling you into one last embrace.

Once you had left her, you marched down the stairs and outside to where you knew Thomas was. Upon arriving into the chilled air, you turned your gaze to his active invention, eyes instantly locking with your spouse's before you motioned him over with the crook of your finger.

He smiled before telling the man something and hopping off his perch, speed walking in your direction. Once he reached you, he scooped you up into his arms, “how are you, my dearest?” You didn't smile, eyes dully staring up at him, “my room for the final time tonight, don't be late or you miss your chance.”

With that, you marched off back into the mansion leaving Thomas gaping at you. Of course he hurried after you, feet crunching against the thin layer of frost as he scampered up to you, “what? What do you mean?”

You whirled around on him and faced him fully, “i'm leaving tonight and if you wish to know why you will meet me at my room tonight. It will be a final goodbye.”

It felt like a dagger was being shoved through your soul as his face morphed into one of pure melancholy but you managed to hold your stone expression. He blinked for a moment before taking a step back, “I...I don't understand, I thought you were happy.” He looked down, hands held out at his sides as tears slipped down his face before he took a step towards you, taking your hand into his, you shook it off.

He snapped, eyes swimming with endless misery as he stood there, “it's Edith, it's Edith isn't it? Please, you've got to underst-” you didn't let him finish.

“We will talk tonight, am I understood?” His mouth shut and he stood upright, a look of anger and betrayal claiming his features due to not being able to explain himself right there on the spot, sorrow gleaming within his orbs as well, “very well.”

That was all he said before he marched back off to his machine. All you could do was stand there, absolutely livid. How dare he look betrayed, how dare he! He had no right, he had promised you no more murder, promised to never wed another woman! How dare he!

You angrily stared at the ground, you supposed this was Karma finally catching up to you for dating him behind Lucille's back. He had promised though...then again he had promised Lucille he would never fall in love with anyone else and here he was.

Before you walked into the house, you barely managed to catch the hate filled, yet apologetic glance Thomas tossed you. You brushed it aside before walking back into the house, shoulders hunched. What a low life…

The hours ticked by slowly and you patiently sat in your room, your personal items having been packed away hours ago. The clock in your room struck twelve in the morning and you could barely hear a pair of feet tap against the wooden floor outside your door before it clicked open. He didn't even bother to knock, how rude, then again curiosity makes one do things they normally wouldn't.

Thomas walked in and shut the door behind him before walking up in front of you, standing tall and looking down upon you in an almost condescending manner, though by the look in his eyes it wasn't meant to be taken as so. Taking another look, you noticed how… weak he looked, how pitiful. It was far from condescending. You rose from the mattress, eyes glaring up at him from below your furrowed brows.

You opened your mouth but just as your lips parted his hands flew to your shoulders before he pulled you close, “i'm so sorry.” You attempted to shove him off but to no avail, his grip only managed to grow tighter on you, “I know it's Edith and I know you're upset but please let me explain.” 

He released you and you took the opportunity to pull away from him and sit upon the bed, hands folded in your lap as you scowled down into the entwined fingers. Without waiting for a response, he began babbling out his story, “we are alive behind my sister's back and with that I still have to remain her significant other-” You intervened, “you don't have to but you choose to.”

He wasted no time in speaking once again, “it's easier and it keeps her happy, I am all she has just as I am to you. I love her, of course not romantically, it is more a chore to keep the relationship but I must, don't you see?” You nodded softly, you and Thomas had already discussed this topic many times and you had grown very close to just giving up on it, the endless emotional turmoil tiresome.

“Aside from that, since I feign loyalty to her, I must listen. We have no money and we cannot seek out jobs, no one would accept us with this clothing, we do not possess the money to do the things others can. She is the one that calls final decisions and gives the orders, you've been here for nearly a year, surely you understand?” Again you nodded, still sending a silent scowl at the floor. 

“She has requested me to wed a woman and I have chosen Edith, Lucille has already murdered Sir Cushing, Edith has nothing left. She is much like you when you came home with us,” he finished. A tear slipped down your cheek and your lips turned downward farther than you thought possible, he chose her. Did Lucille really request for him to marry or did he just want another woman? “Thomas, it's already been decided, i've stolen a fourth of Lucille's money and i'm leaving after this conversation, I will be gone by dawn.”

His face dropped and he knelt in front of you, taking your hand into his, “please, please stay. I promise I do not love anyone besides you, please. Lucille is my sister, I show her the affection she wants, I do not enjoy it. Edith is just another wife, so please.”

You looked up at him, scowl fading into a thin line as you stared at him through heartbroken eyes, “your explanation has done well but...there was another reason I do not wish to stay…” Thomas stared up at you through his quivering eyelashes, teardrops clinging to them like dew. “I refuse to witness Edith die, my palms will not gain anymore blood.”

If a person could shatter, Thomas would have disintegrated. He seemed to fall apart like a broken mirror, face becoming nothing but misery. Despite all the obvious pain, his quiet voice croaked up, the velvet sound no longer there but instead replaced with a hoarse whisper, “then let me make tonight a good memory for you, let me allow you to part with beautiful thoughts. Allow me to let you leave me with a small amount of love to remain.”

A broken sob escaped your throat and you softly nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips smothered the air away from you.

Slowly, he stood before pushing you against the mattress so you rested on your back. Between kisses, you let small words slip past your lips, “i’m sorry for all of this,” you said quietly. He shushed you, kissing your cheeks where the tears had pooled, “i'm sorry for breaking my word.” You took his face into your hands, eyes blinking rapidly as you stared up at him, “I forgive you.”

That bittersweet smile formed upon his pink tinted lips for the last time, for what would be the last time for a few years anyways.

In that night, your virginity was swept away along with the man you had grown to love, the house you had grown accustomed to left seemingly forever.

That night was what appeared to be the last one, but you had been wrong. So bloody wrong.

The minute you exited the mansion, the spirit that had swept into your form split from your body, silently watching as you walked off and away from the Sharpe's home.

Great sorrow overwhelmed you as that familiar black void sucked you away. Earlier when you arrived at the great Sharpe estate you had wondered if Thomas loved you, how easily you forgot about those feelings. It was astounding how much of those memories you had blocked out, only knowing the love you wielded for him but failing to recall how much he had cherished you. Then again, didn't he say he had loved you? That's past tense… Perhaps he still holds an affection for you.

A dim grey formed above you at the top of the black expanse and you swam through the blanket of dark, eyes squinting against the ever brightening rays of ashen hues. Eventually your vision was flung into the blinding rays of winter sunlight. A voice chimed in beside you, “you’re awake, how are you feeling, dear?” 

Groggily, you turned your head and saw Thomas- You jumped away from him, pain consuming your lower back and forcing you to still. Correction: Ghost of Thomas.

The albino stared at you, lips pulled into a tight line and suddenly you could see the emotions that swam in his mustard colored orbs. Had they always been there?

“I’m terribly sorry for frightening you,” he said softly. Relaxing, you moved back over to him, your own orbs staring up at him before turning downwards and resting on his hands. Hesitantly, you reached towards it, grasping it. 

He seemed surprised but laced his fingers with yours regardless, “Thomas?” The ghost turned his eyes back to you questioningly, “do you remember the final night?”

The man froze, everything unmoving except for the lone wisp of red arising from the apple of his cheek when suddenly he spoke, “it’s the clearest memory I have.” 

You reached up to cover your teary eyes, “i’m terribly sorry for blocking it out... it's... it's so painful, but yet it's the sweetest thought that remains.” 

Thomas grasped your hand, fingers wrapping around your wrist as he softly tugged it away as to gaze into your orbs, “I understand, do not apologize.”

Moments passed before you had enough courage to bring forth the inquiry that had nagged at the edges of your mind, “do you still love me?” 

The corners of his lips twitched up and he glanced down at the ground, “so curious you are,” his smile soon turned down into the beginnings of a frown, “but as I said before, in the past I harbored feelings for you. Nevermore.”

Tears pricked your eyes and you stared down at your hand which was rested within your lap, the other still being held by the ghost. 

Now having the silence to contemplate thoughts, you noticed for the first time since you awoke that you now rested on a bed. Thomas must've moved you here.

The said man squeezed your fingers softly, staring down at you, “but perhaps...they can be restored if you so desire my affection.”

You gave his hand a squeeze back in return, letting the stillness of the day take over between the two of you, letting the quiet sink into the cracks in front of you.

Thomas turned his head to gaze down at an insect scuttling across the wooden floor and that's when you took your chance to speak up.

“I still love you.”

The ghost turned to you, eyes widened the tiniest bit before he laughed a very forced laugh, “surely you must have met someone else in those four years you were gone.”

You shook your head, “you ruined me, all I could love was you and I didn't even know it. It was so subtle, so buried within my subconscious that I couldn't register who my heart belonged to...but seeing you…” you reached a hand up to touch his face but pulled away at the last minute, “that’s no way to love someone. It was as good as forgetting you, it doesn't count.”

Thomas took your hand into his, pulling it from the air where it still hovered, “of course it counts, you said it was subconscious, yes? Then deep down below your covered memories, you still knew me, you never forgot. I was always there,” he sent a smile down at you.

Gently you pulled your hand away from his in order to let it rest upon his cheek, your other palm still held within his.

Your slender fingers softly rested upon his wound, barely hovering upon it, “can I kiss you, just this once, love?” you asked sweetly, smiling as you uttered the words he had spoken to you all those years ago.

The albino smiled fondly at you, brows furrowing up in an affectionate manner, “yes.”

Ever so slowly, he leaned down, eyes practically screaming at you with adoration. You crained your neck up, tilting your face towards him as a smile brightened your features.

The two of you kept your eyes open for a few seconds of the kiss, desiring to see the emotions that swam through each other's eyes. Another second more and your eyelids came down, fully surrendering and pouring out all your feelings to him.

He pulled away after a moment, eyes scanning over your form. You stared back, resting your head back on the pillow.

His voice broke through the soft air, “I believe I'm already on my way to falling hard for you once again, my dear.”

You smiled up at him, “that’s good to hear,” you paused, thinking for a moment, “now that that's done with, what exactly is wrong with me? From when I fell, is something broken?”

His face grew grim and in return, you became startled, “you didn't fall, you were pushed, but aside from that, your coccyx is broken.” You let a breath of air escape your parted lips, thank god it wasn't anything serious. “Tailbones heal rather quickly don't they?” you inquired hopefully. He nodded, “indeed they do, but with that broken bone, you also received a slight concussion. The head trauma was most likely what sent you into such a troubled sleep.”

You raised your brow at him, how had he known it was a troubled sleep? He caught your look and chuckled softly, “you tossed in your sleep the whole time you were slumbering, a total of ten hours.”

Blinking, you nodded in understanding, slight shock claiming you, sure that wasn't as long as you could've slept and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been expecting him to say a few days. You rubbed at your eyes, wiping the last remainders of tears away, “I have one more question, Thomas.”

The ghost looked at you, patiently awaiting for the words to tumble from your lips.

“How did Lucille react when she found out I had stolen the money?”

Thomas was silent for a moment before he eventually looked up at you, “she was furious. After a few days she seemed to understand though and appeared to silently forgive you,” he looked down and blinked before his orbs settled on yours once again, “what did you end up doing with the currency anyways?”

A sigh escaped you, free hand fiddling with the bedsheets, “I went back to London and with the remainder of it I stayed alive...eventually using nearly the last of it to come back here.”

Thomas smiled tenderly, looking down at where your hands were connected, “were you really that concerned for me?” You followed his gaze, a strand of silky hair falling into your face from behind your ear, “of course, that letter was not to be taken lightly...I was scared for you.”

With slow, smooth movements, he leaned down to rest his head upon yours, back bending from where he sat perched on a chair, “i'm glad you've come back to me, to us, but I...I understand if you wish to leave. I am aware that you were forced into staying here, Lucille commanded it. If you want to leave…” 

You brought your fingers to his lips, effectively silencing him, “I have no intention of leaving you again.”

Thomas smiled benevolently, dull eyes twinkling, “thank you, love.”


	7. Spanish Sahara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration: Spanish Sahara by Foals  
> https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6GJO_RpBnEg

It took over eight weeks for the fracture in your lower back to fully heal, that blasted tailbone taking its bloody time. Around four weeks in the past is when you had began walking around, limping to places on your own. You would have appreciated the help of Thomas but...he had made himself scarce since the day everything came back to you clearly.

Currently you sat upon his invention, fueling it with coal and watching as it dug up the endless amounts of clay. Nine weeks and Thomas had not shown himself, you would have thought he'd show himself more considering you promised to not leave. Perhaps it was a test, to see how long you could stand being here without him, to see if you'd really stay even if he had to be away for some unknown reason.

You wouldn't lie though, at this point the lack of socialization was beginning to wear on your mind. At one point you had believed yourself capable of living with no contact to something that speaks, but you were proven wrong.

Aside from all of that, a pair of men would be seeking out wealthy businessmen and selling the clay, possibly attempting to get prototypes of this machine made and sold. That would bring in some money for you. As far as the outside world knew, the Sharpes had taken vacation somewhere and left you in charge.

Speaking of the siblings, you knew not of how they had contacted two men to deliver the clay but they had. The males would arrive tomorrow and you'd be blessed with the gift of speaking to something other than yourself or inanimate objects, it would be a treat.

Tugging the lever to still the invention, you hopped off your seat and wiped the sweat away from your forehead, “are you proud of me, Thomas? My hands are becoming less soft everyday…” you rubbed your hands together before letting them fall to your sides, gaze pointing towards the ground, “i'd like to think you're proud...but I suppose you're far from that if you still refuse to show…” Your words were hushed, hands trembling. “Then again, I don't blame you...I practically left you for dead.”

A hand twisted you around and you were met face to face with Lucille, “he's not yours.”

You stared at her, “he is no one's.”

Her eyes hardened, barely visible within the dark pits of her sockets, “I know what you did with him on the night before you left. You're a slag, a bloody slag.”

You bit your lip, looking to the side, “Lucille, listen. He was persistent, I refused at first but he-” a sharp slap interrupted you, it was backhanded. The ring upon her finger dug into your skin, painting it red and carving the flesh.

You twisted to the side before losing your balance and collapsing to the ground, “I trusted you.”

“Lucille, i'm sorry, please I-” she stomped down on your ankle and you felt it all the way down to your bone. It didn't break, not from what you could tell anyways. “I thought we had grown close, acquainted, but I was wrong,” she said bitterly.

“Lucille, i'm terribly sorry, I felt awful but I love him too, don't you see? He was so persistent, he promised me his heart, who was I to continue resisting the love I so dearly yearned for?” Tears now fell from your eyes, both from the physical pain and the internal guilt that flooded your senses.

The woman before you paused for a moment before her soft voice arose, “I hate that I still regard you as an ally, I should kill you…”

Unnerved beyond belief, you scuttled away, eyes nervously watching as she faded into the air around you, disappearing from your senses for the time being.

Standing upon shaking legs, you rested your palm upon the invention beside you for stability. It burned, the hot metal seemingly ripping into your flesh.

Hissing, you retracted your fingers and began limping towards the house, ankle swollen and bruised. As you approached the entrance, a palm came to rest on your shoulder, tender and soft.

You didn't need to glance to know who it was. Thomas walked up beside you, sparing you a quick glance through mustard colored orbs before taking your hand into his own. Glancing down with glossy eyes, you tipped your head up to gaze into his face.

Shaking your head, you brought yourself forward, clinging to him in a light embrace, free hand quivering as you raised it to rest upon his back. As quickly as you had come, you retreated before he could make a move to return your subtle affections, and just like that, you slipped free from grasp.

You were not as happy as you should have been to see him once more, you were terrified to see his face actually. He did not frighten you but the threat that still hung in the air, delivered by Lucille herself, it made you shudder.

The albino quietly followed you into the mansion, steps like that of a mouse.

Not bothering to shut the doors, you climbed up the stairs and to the attic, eyes drooping with fatigue and regret. It was a mistake in coming here, it was a mistake ever speaking to him, that night was a mistake.

You could feel the ghost's eyes on the back of your skull, hovering just above your nape. Upon arrival of your destination, you quietly walked over to the chair Thomas had always resided in, always invented in.

Silently you slipped into it, back resting upon its wooden surface. With little to no grace, you slipped your shoes off, fingers reaching up to pull out the pins within your hair afterwards. The man behind you said nothing, simply observing you through a somber expression.

Once you had stripped off the majority of the agitating clothing, nothing but your dress and corset remaining, you turned to the silver haired male, motioning him over with the crook of your finger. He hesitated but came over to you none the less, that thin, wispy trail of red billowing up from his cheek.

Quietly you stared up at him from your perch, the man eventually closing his eyes and kneeling down before you. Taking in his features for a moment, a sob tore through you, cold palms reaching up to cradle his cheeks. You wanted to scream at him, tell him to stay away but you found yourself mute, quiet cries being the only sole sound that tore through you.

At some point your arms had been flung around his neck, your knees knelt on the ground beside his. His hands rested on your hips, strong and soothing as he held you, nose buried in the crook of your neck.

Cheek resting lazily against his neck, you emitted one final stifled sob before completely surrendering and falling into his hold.

Moments passed, perhaps hours, you weren't quite sure. Taking the chance finally, you spoke, “I wish to sleep up here for tonight.”

The only reply you received was a curt nod of his head.

Tiredly, you retreated from him, climbing back onto the wooden structure behind you. Quickly readjusting yourself, you leaned forward onto the desk, taking care not to push anything over the edge. With arms folded and head rested sideways upon the flesh, you stared up at Thomas, the man having stood back up in the small amount of time.

Cloth came to rest around your shoulders as your eyelids began to drift shut. Snatching a glance through the corner of your eye, you watched as a pale hand faded just out of sight from your peripheral vision.

Sighing, you moved one of your arms out from underneath you, appendage hanging limply off to the side as you reached out for his affection. Thomas came and sat on the desk just beside you, oddly enough the objects went right through his form. Yet he took your hand into his, his touch calming, soothing, solid and there.

You smiled fondly up at him, a surprise came over you when he returned it in his own gentle manner. Eyes drifting closed, you delivered a squeeze upon his fingers, heart softly slowing as sleep consumed you. _You said I wouldn't regret this, Thomas. Stay with me._

The ghost smiled sweetly down at you, palm caressing yours with a touch so light. After a moment, the albino leaned down to your face, planting a soft kiss on your cheek, “I will make you wish you had stayed with me all those years you were absent.”

You sent a small smile up at him, eyes lidded with fatigue as dreamland quickly approached. A gentle tear rolled down the slope of your cheek before slipping to the ground, a sudden somber feeling spreading throughout your chest, “I love you.”

Thomas closed his eyes, fingers clutching yours firmer, a little tighter, a little more protectively. A moment passed, two, then three.

His gold orbs were visible once more as his eyelids flew up to reveal his numerous emotions, “I love you too.”

The cloth around your frame suddenly felt warmer, cozier as a sweet feeling of adoration consumed you, licking at your core.

Soft sounds of a piano came from the many floors below the two of you, tenderly echoing along the walls of the mansion as you drifted away. Your glossy orbs peered into those of the albino’s, silently watching him, willing him to comprehend all these ludicrous, undescribable emotions as if he possessed some ability related to that of telepathy.

Unable to resist the urge to sleep any longer, you submitted to the lazy shut of your eyelids, catching the last glimpses of Thomas before your sight filled with black.

 

Soft rays of glittering sunlight seeped into the room you occupied, shining through the small window the attic offered. The bright rays began catching the tiny speckles of dust, trapping them forever in the yellow.

Shifting in the wooden chair, you let out a soft groan, quilt shawl slipping from your shoulders as you did so.

Remaining still for a generous amount of time, you gave into the temptation of stretching after a while. Stretching your arms out, your fingertips softly grazed a warm cup, palm hovering above a steamy warmth. Cracking your eyes open, you were met with the sight of a china tea cup filled to the brim with creamy chestnut colored tea, the sweet scent instantly filling your nostrils.

Sitting up from your slouched over position, you tiredly ran your fingers through your locks, a yawn escaping your lips. Twisting and turning this way and that, you sighed contently as your spine let forth a few satisfying cracks, multiple other joints following suit.

Craning your head to the side, your eyes fell upon the discarded cloth behind the chair. Huffing, you reached down and scooped it up, wrapping the garment of clothing around your awakening form snuggly.

It didn't take long for you to return your suspicious gaze back to the cup of steamy honey brown tea, orbs hesitant and curious as to if it was poisoned. If it was a part of Thomas’ morning tea ritual than you were almost positive it would be humane to consume it, if from Lucille the answer would be the opposite.

Deciding to hold off on your morning tea, you turned to gaze at your surroundings, eyeing the endless inventions Thomas had produced over the years. It almost made you swoon at just the mere thought that he had created all of this, the thought absurdly astounding.

A heavy sigh escaped you before you arose from your perch, limbs stretching and cracking once again, mimicking the actions just moments ago. Rubbing your eyes and robbing them of the fuzzy vision, you turned to your folded items of cloth that remained on the ground. Instead of the jumbled up mess you had expected them to remain in, they rested in a neatly folded pile upon the table before you.

Slipping out of your dress, you began to tug your corset on, commencing in the daily morning activities of appearing presentable. 

Minutes passed, perhaps hours before you eventually finished. 

You went to turn around but a soft voice in front of you softly cooed out, “you look rather lavishing today.” With a jump you turned your startled gaze to Thomas’ gentle smile, “you are divine.”

Cheeks turning a light cherry tint, you sent him a smile, eyes twinkling as you recalled last night. Speaking of the previous afternoon, your ankle still throbbed thanks to his sister, though in an odd sense you could understand her reasoning for why she had lashed out in such a way. You wouldn't have done the same if placed in her shoes but you could most certainly understand her point of view. In all honesty, you were a slag, a woman who stole her man. Though the albino had chosen you on his own terms, his own free will, she still refused to acknowledge that fact. Yet again, oddly you understood that.

Thomas glanced down at your untouched tea, “is it too sweet for your liking, love?” he inquired with a gentle tone. There's your answer, he had made it. Shaking your head, you walked over to the cup, “i'm sorry, I noticed it when I was getting dressed. Got too caught up in looking decent, thank you for reminding me and thank you for making it for me,” you brought a kiss down on his cheek before swiping the cup. Taking a gentle sip of it, you sent him a smile, watching with doe eyes as he did the same.

Finishing the beverage in record time, you softly placed the glass back onto the table. Your eyes returned to his once more. After a moment you registered something swimming in his eyes that you had not witnessed for a very long time, that shattered look. It was as if that look he gave you on the feigned final night was somehow stored away within the inky pits of his eyes.

With furrowed brows, you reached forward and caressed his cheek, touch tender, “Thomas?”

There was a blink and then two before he refocused on you, “i'm terribly sorry, I must have lost myself for a moment.”

A smile crept onto your face though your creased brows still remained concerned, “no need to apologize. Are you sure you're alright?” Silence hung in the air for a few seconds until his smooth voice chirped up, “i'm fine, love, do not fret over me,” and then he sent you that charming smile that you adored, that made you melt. “As long as you're sure…” a hesitant pause lingered in your tone as you let your orbs remain rested upon his, a soft grin tugging at your lips as the furrow in your brow eased.

Thomas nodded before leaning in and planting a kiss upon your lips, mouth trailing to your cheek and smooching there as well. Giggling, you beamed up at him, eyes happy and blissful, unable to contain all the affection you were thrusting towards him. The albino let his palms trail to your hips, quietly resting his fingers on your sides before planting another affection filled kiss on you.

Smiling widely and returning his love, you circled your arms around his neck, landing a peck on his cheek...his nose...his forehead.

Tenderly you let your lips fall upon his, slow and gentle, tender.

Upon pulling away, the man adorned that shattered gaze once more though his smile still remained. You did not question it this time around, simply cast him a silky smile soaked in worry.

Sensing your concern, Thomas spoke, “excuse me for the moment, dear. I shall return very soon.” Before you could even attempt to plead with him to remain, he smooched your cheek and faded into the air around you, the only thing remaining that gave you proof he ever resided here was the soft tingling sensation upon your lips.

Letting a sigh escape you, you turned and sat back on the wooden structure, the final pops of your joints commencing as you did so.

A sudden feeling of unease settled in the pit of your stomach, seemingly dropping it to the ground. Your heart was beating too hard, the muscle seemingly thumping into your throat. Hunching into yourself as to avoid the ever forming pain rising in your abdomen was all you could do in an attempt to make it cease. Your stomach burned with an unexplainable sensation, a fire settling within the depths of your body.

Unknown to this feeling, you reached your arms around your waist, tugging and cradling the burning area. All too sudden, your airways began to shrink just a tiny bit, not enough to damage but enough to irritate. Your throat constricted with a withering sensation, closing in on itself at the same moment.

Before you could even make an attempt to stop yourself, a horrid cough tore through your body, red spilling from your lips in thin streams. Though not rapid, they trailed down your chin in lines of crimson with each monstrous hack, the scarlet staining your teeth.

Shaking with tears rushing down your face was all you could do as your fingers tenderly touched your lip, the tips becoming coated in sticky red almost instantly. With a hand still clutched around your abdomen, you stared around for Thomas before turning your gaze towards the floor where your blood had fallen.

The substance sat on the wooden ground in sickly splatters, shining in the bright rays of the sun. Turning your eyes back to your hand once again, you took in the sight of the crimson liquid clinging to your palm. Now the blood literally stuck to your hands, you could feel the guilt from the past rise up just like the scarlet blood had.

Thomas had poisoned you.


	8. Landfill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed chapter  
> Also sorry that it's only half as long as I normally make them  
> It's a lose lose and I blame school
> 
> Inspiration: Landfill by Daughter   
> https://youtu.be/OpWO_byqSr8

Furrowing your brows and placing a palm over your mouth, you slowly stood up from the chair. Hunched over, you quickly wiped the scarlet from your lips, the red smearing across your skin as you did so. 

“Thomas, you bloody bastard…” was all you whispered out, voice hoarse and gentle above the quiet. A creak sounded from behind you and at first you wanted to refuse investigation, didn’t want to look. Minutes passed and a presence loomed over your shoulder. At this point a simple crook of your neck would allow you sight of the entity.

With a frown, you rotated your skull to the side, eyes locking on a pair of black orbs. Unfazed, you simply took a step back before fully facing the ghost.

“Enola, what brings you here?” The deceased woman seemed to stare straight through your skin and into your soul before words slipped past her lips, rougher than nails on a chalkboard.

“It was not him.”

You frowned, eyes squinting up in distrust, “then why did he look so guilty? He brought me that tea.”

The crimson woman simply shook her head, “that is incorrect,” her jaw clicked out of place before once again setting itself. Softly cringing, your stare did not falter, “we shall see, I suppose.”

A feeling of unease blossomed within your stomach, the emotion causing you to sink into yourself ever so slightly. You cast your vision behind you in an attempt to see if whatever was causing your guts to rot rested within your surroundings. Upon returning your orbs back to where they had been previously located, you found that Enola had vanished. Cursing the fact that you were now left independent with such a dark force, you attempted to hurry out of the room.

As you were about to pass the doorframe that lead out to the hallway, a cold hand touched your shoulder. Whirling around, you slapped the palm away, the pale fist took to resting in the air beside your shoulders, mustard orbs still holding a remorseful expression.

Fury enveloped you in a hot grip, your palm open and flying to the ghost’s cheek. To your surprise, the hit was solid, he had not allowed your hand to slip through his form but instead had taken the punishment. The wound on his cheek had been where you had struck, blood flowing out of it in great waves from the force.

“Please listen to me,” his voice was dull, quiet, regretful, pained. An ounce of pity grasped you, enveloping your thoughts in an iron hold but you shook your head regardless, “why? You poisoned me, I trusted you, you said you loved me!”

Pity now fading, replaced by raw rage, you brought your hand up once again and delivered a harsh strike upon his already tender injury. The albino crippled a bit at the contact, visibly hunching into himself. It took all the willpower you possessed to avoid feeling guilt to extreme levels, remorse still stealing your form and causing you to quiet.

“Please, I beg of you…” Thomas whispered out, eyes sparing a glance up at yours, “please listen to me.”

You bit your lip, droplets of salt filled water forming in your eyes, glossing them over like rain on a window. Glancing to the side with bunched up brows and a scowl, you inevitably nodded.

The ghost before you gave you a firm nod in return, bandaged palm resting on the apple of his cheek in a failed attempt to soothe his aching flesh. Silently he leaned against the table resting behind him, eyes fixated upon the wooden floor.

With a voice just a notch louder than the wind itself, he spoke, “forgive me. I was...unable to control myself, quite literally.”

Enraged and confused, you motioned with a jerky hand for him to continue, refusing to let yourself interrupt him in fear of him halting his explanations.

“Lucille has found a way,” his voice was somber, trembling, “to gain an ounce of control over my mind when I am at my weakest. She is a jealous spirit, one on the brink of sinking into that of evil. She hates you, hates me.”

Feeling the vexation beginning to slip away from your mind, you cast a perplexed gaze up at him, “I thought she loved you.”

A rough chuckle slipped past his lips, brows furrowing as his eyes closed, reopening with his face turned downwards. “I resent her romantic advances and since I have in turn granted you the closest thing similar to affection, she despises me. I’m sure it's quite obvious why she takes displeasure in your existence, correct?”

Nodding softly, you folded your hands in front of you, the anger you had once experienced now fading into puzzlement. “I am still unsure of what you mean…’control over your mind when at your weakest’, what does that translate to?”

Meeting his eyes once more, you noted the confusion that swirled within them.

“When I am...obscenely troubled, frightened, or upset, she can take a hold of my state of mind, controlling my movements...my actions, without my consent. I was deeply concerned for your life at this estate and she took that to her advantage, stealing my mind away. I was her puppet, her puppet that was forced to witness my own fingers taint the tea, listen as my own tongue spun a web of lies, feel my own sorrow as I watched you drink the hazardous beverage. Unable to break the trance I was currently forced into. It resembles sleepwalking except...you know exactly what is happening, yet you remain unable to force yourself out of the state. A literal puppet.”

You placed your folded hands upon your lips, index fingers perched upon the flesh, eyes closed as you let the words sink in and allowed your brain to process the new information.

Multiple moments of silence passed before you parted your lips to speak, “so you physically did this but emotionally…”

Thomas finished your sentence for you, eyes somber, “I did not wish to hurt you, as I never did and never will.”

Finding yourself mutely nodding to his statement, you stepped forward, fingers unlaced and seeking out his face. The albino flinched away once before stilling himself, allowing you the chance to touch him, your palm grazing his flowing cheek. A scarlet tear slipped down his cheek at your touch. Though tender, the contact from earlier had caused the flesh to seemingly become aflame.

Closing your eyes, you lifted your hand off of his face, replacing your palm with your soothing kiss. With a light touch, you pecked the crater riding his cheek. “You are forgiven, I apologize for striking you with such force.”

The ghost paused for a moment before nodding, silently rejoicing in your forgiveness, drowning in the scent of you, loving the way your warm breath brushed the slope of his cold skin.

Figuring it was best to remain silent, the man brought his arms around you, actions hesitant and timid. You willingly leaned into his embrace, your own limbs grasping onto him tightly, “what a shamble our life is in..”

Thomas chuckled softly, his voice a quiet boom of peaceful thunder, “your life, my second wind.”

A bittersweet giggle drifted from you, eyes cast downwards, “right, I always seem to forget i'm engaged in romantic antics with a spirit.”

There was a feathery kiss placed upon your temple before a chin rested upon your silky strands of hair, “do you regret it?”

Heaving a sigh from your lungs and resting your ear upon his chest was all you could do in response, the lack of a heartbeat startling to you. Tentatively your hands climbed up to his silver locks, nestling within the mass of curls and softly massaging his scalp. In the back of your mind you registered Thomas doing the same.

“I don't.”

The ghost tensed slightly before the words finally soaked into recognition. Almost unnoticeably he tightened the clutch, drawing you closer to his form, chest flush against his.

“I don’t regret it either,” he said after a moment, deep voice rumbling within his torso. Turning your head up to gaze into his face, you leaned upwards, lips tenderly grazing his in a soft motion. Your lashes quivered with emotions, eyelids weighed down by both affection and grief as you directed your sight towards the pair of intertwined hands before you.

Silently meeting his orbs with your own, you squeezed his palms a bit firmer, “when I am to die...you will not leave me, correct?”

The albino looked upon you with such a great intensity that you thought you'd melt from its absolute unyielding bite. Though his expression was soft and his eyes gentle, you couldn't help but feel a burn creep up into your chest as a flush consumed your cheeks.

“I would never dream of it, my dear…”


	9. Thirteen Thirty-five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's here.  
> Another chapter after a very long time of nothing.  
> Fuck all.  
> I have finals in two weeks, pls end me.
> 
> Inspiration: Thirteen Thirty-five by Dillon  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BDsuR22GQPQ&index=23&list=PLsDNQgQ_sEdaNLM453H-B6I43zPFKqw7z

Pulling away from Thomas, you flashed a small grin up at him before tenderly grasping his palm within your own. You breathed a small sigh of content, guiding his hand to your cheek as you let your eyes flutter closed.

“I suppose if she can grasp your mind when it's at its weakest...then she can grab it while you feel affections to the extremes.” His expression was all but somber as he gazed down at you, eyes hooded as he stared. “Possibly,” his hand stroked over your face as he spoke, voice a quiet whisper, “but I can only hope she cannot.”

Silence filled the air until eventually it became unbearable for you. Breaking the quiet, you firmly took his hand and began leading him forwards and down the stairs. Quieter than a mouse, he inquired as to where you were taking him to which you replied with a hum.

Within minutes the two of you came to a halt in front of his room. You turned towards him, eyes round, “does the light harm you?” Upon the shake of his head, you marched forward towards the fireplace.

Elegantly and silently, you sat beside the fireplace, a low and gentle fire burning in the hot embers. You figured it had been fueled by the draft the chimney offered, rekindling itself with every gust of winter breeze that was offered. To say it was warm would be an understatement, it was bliss wrapped up in a spring breeze, cozy and perfect. With nothing but the frost for comfort to your nerves, heat was a sweet haven for your snow touched flesh.

Thomas sat down beside you, affection welling in his heart as he peered over at your expression, watching the reflected fire swirl within your orbs.

With a touch so soft, he laced his fingers with yours, a loving smile stealing his lips in an affectionate gaze. You instantly returned it, eyes closing as you curled up into his side. A moment passed, then two before you let your orbs crack open to peer up at Thomas.

Out of the corner of your eyes you saw a gleam shine within the small span of light the fire offered. Leaving the ghost's side and scooting over to it, you leaned forward and grasped the item.

Dread instantly filled you as you touched the handle of a dagger, blade caked in dried crimson. Thomas, who sat a few inches behind you, flinched upon seeing the item. You instantly let go of it before crawling back over to his side, worry walking up your spine as you turned to him.

Having learned that multiple murders had taken place here, you decided not to inquire as to whose blood it was and instead chose to remain silent. Beside you, the albino shifted, leaning over a bit behind you in order to grasp the dagger. Timidly he took it into his palm before returning to his previous position at your side. “This…” he held the knife by the handle, the tip of it glistening with the glow of the fire, “was my death.”

A shiver spiked through your form as you gazed at the weapon, “your death?”

The man nodded in affirmation, fingers instinctively moving to rest upon the apple of his cheek. “When...when Lucille became too jealous, she plunged this very blade right…” his fingertips brushed over the crater, “here.”

You hadn't noticed at this point in time but it was with a dawning worry that Thomas did. A hollow feeling had settled within his gut, spreading more until it consumed his aching core and sprouted into a dull hate.

Fury swirled with fear, overwhelming him until he could feel his limbs grow weak and his eyes fall numb. With a dawning realization, he took into consciousness that the dagger he currently held had ascended into the air.

Sparing a glance down at you was all he could do, watching as you stared into the fire, previously listening to his tale of his demise. It was all he could do to stare at your sweet, lovely face; one palm rested upon his own as you let your eyes fall shut.

It was all he could do to let tears roll down his face before he swung down, blade held within his firm grasp.


End file.
